Leave the Lights On
by Kavacha
Summary: When Pitch targeted Cupcake's brother, the last thing he expected were skeletons in the closet. "Who do you think I am?" "Edward Cullen and Voldemort's lovechild?"
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Thursday Night - October 4th, 2012

The low rumble of a vehicle outside resonated through Cupcake's nightmare, manifesting as a deadly pack of beasts that tore apart her dreams.

She woke not long after that, hidden under the covers. A flimsy shield, but the best she could do.

With one hand the dark-haired girl reached out to turn on the lamp at her bedside. She waited a moment for her eyes to adjust before sitting up, not expecting her bedroom door to open.

A red Siberian husky ran and jumped on the bed, licking her face. Cupcake laughed in spite of the nightmare she just had. "Fenrir, get off!" she admonished halfheartedly.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

Cupcake looked at the young man standing in the doorway, a duffle bag on his shoulder. "Rowan!" She climbed out of bed, and barreled into her brother's arms. "I missed you." she said, pulling away once he returned her embrace. "I thought you were coming home tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I decided to come back early." he replied, running his free hand through his windswept brown hair. "I got you a little something," he continued, setting the bag on the floor.

The girl watched Rowan unzip one of the side pockets, removing a box wrapped in bright paper and a slightly crumpled bow. She took the present, carefully undid the bow, and opened it.

Inside was what looked like an expensive ornament, but when she took it out, Cupcake realized it was a snow globe with a unicorn. The tiny figurine had been painted so that it changed color in different lighting, depending on the angle.

She grinned. "I love it! Thank you!" Cupcake placed the gift on her nightstand where it would be safe.

Rowan smiled at his younger sister. "That's my best work, you know," he mentioned offhandedly, "Nothing less than the best for you."

Cupcake looked at her bed, then the dog sprawled across it. "Can I sleep with you tonight?" she asked, glancing back at her brother.

He picked the duffle bag back up. "I don't see why not. Just give me a sec, I gotta put my stuff away and take a shower first."

She nodded, inwardly relieved. If anyone could keep the nightmares at bay, it was her brother.

As he crossed the hall to his own room, she said, "Hey, Rowan? Thanks."

The young man nodded. "You're welcome, Willow."

Cupcake turned off the light, and followed Rowan a few minutes later, Fenrir at her side.

Unlike her bright pink walls, ballerinas and unicorns, his room was just white. Hundreds of drawings she had made over the years plastered the ceiling. What she considered scraps of paper, he called inspiration for his art.

His bed was shoved off to the side, closer to his closet, which connected to the attached bathroom. This left a lot of open space. A plastic tarp was taped to the floor, so he could work without worrying about getting the hardwood messed up.

Cupcake pulled back the white covers, and got settled before Fenrir joined her. She thought it was kind of silly to have white bedding, when his dog required weekly brushing, but Rowan loved Fenrir like his own child. She was pretty sure he let her sleep under the blankets too, judging by the way Fenrir had laid her head down on an extra pillow.

The bathroom light shut off as Rowan finished washing up for the night. Cupcake scooted closer once he got comfortable, Fenrir at her back like a small heater. "Night bro, love you," she murmured.

Rowan draped both arms around her, and kissed the top of her head. "Love you too, sis."

Outside on the balcony, a nightmare snorted in irritation, before it turned and galloped across the star-strewn sky, heading home.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Friday Morning - October 5th, 2012

Cupcake was the last one up the next morning. She looked around her brother's room. The desktop computer hummed quietly; his instant messenger pinged with a new IM from one of his friends, if it wasn't a bot.

She slid out from under the covers and walked over to the machine. If Rowan was busy, he might not come back for a while, and he often forgot to set his online status to 'Away' or 'Be Right Back'.

His background was solid black with the Hogwarts coat of arms in the center. Cupcake remembered it being something else last time, but he changed his background on a daily basis.

Moving the cursor, she clicked on the conversation with 'shinegrave' blinking in the taskbar and enlarged the window.

**shinegrave:** Hey Grahamcracker you still seeing things?

**arcticinferno:** If by seeing things you mean you're actually outside watching me through the window...

**shinegrave:** I get my entertainment where I can.

**arcticinferno:** Sometimes I wonder about you.

**shinegrave:** You do dream about me at night! I knew it. L lost the bet.

**arcticinferno:** What am I, a racehorse or something?

**shinegrave:** No, but you'd make an awesome trophy husband.

**arcticinferno:** That doesn't make me feel better.

**shinegrave:** Right. Anyways I got your order in the mail, come by later to pick it up.

**arcticinferno:** Sounds good. I have to go make breakfast before Fenrir starts whining and wakes Cupcake up. She won't stop staring at me with those eyes.

**shinegrave:** She wants eggs, bacon, sausages, and toast with blackberry jam.

**arcticinferno:** Lol, I'll set an extra plate.

**shinegrave:** You know me so well.

**arcticinferno:** See you in a few.

**shinegrave:** I'm already there.

Cupcake reasoned her brother must have gotten up and left before his friend replied. Agnes was the only one who used their surname to address him. She turned and left.

In the daylight, her bedroom looked inconspicuous, with normal girl-who-wants-to-be-a-princess stuff, but at night...

She shook her head to get rid of the bad thoughts, changed out of her pajamas into a fresh set of clothes, then brushed her hair and teeth. Rowan was here now. He could do anything as far as Cupcake was concerned.

They might have been eleven years apart, but they were close. She relied on him to be there for her when their parents couldn't, and he never let her down.

She went downstairs to the kitchen. The smell of pancakes and maple syrup on top of everything Agnes 'ordered' made her mouth water.

Somewhere along the line, Rowan decided to become a chef, and took Home Economics when he was still in high school. At twenty-one, his skills were better than they were when he first started, but their mother had been the head chef for a restaurant, so cooking was a big part of their family life.

Taking a seat at the counter, instead of the table, Cupcake giggled as she watched Fenrir gaze longingly at the bacon on the stove. "Morning, Ro," she said.

Rowan flinched, obviously distracted with something as he looked up from hunting for spices in the kitchen cabinet. "Hey. Sleep good?" he asked, found what he needed - pepper - and straightened up, unscrewing the lid to pour some on the scrambled eggs.

Cupcake glanced at the side door as the face behind the name 'shinegrave' made her appearance. The teenage girl was short, with dyed red hair, and a leather jacket she borrowed over a year ago on permanent loan from Rowan, or so she claimed.

"Good morning lovelies!" she greeted cheerfully, walking around the counter to grab a piece of cooked bacon, and promptly handed it to Fenrir.

"Hi Agnes." said Cupcake.

Rowan shook his head. "Morning, Agnes. Now she'll never leave you alone."

"But she was giving me the face and you know I can't resist the face. Just look at her, starving, no one giving her any delicious food..." continued Agnes, petting the dog with one hand as she helped herself to breakfast.

Cupcake smiled. Out of everyone she knew, Agnes had to be her brother's best friend. She stuck to his side like glue, and had done just that when they were younger. Superglue and Agnes had a special bond. Unfortunately the incident got her banhammered from handling Rowan's art supplies.

"Yes, she doesn't have dog food right there," replied the hazel-eyed young man, gesturing with the spatula as he flipped pancakes off the griddle, and onto their plates.

Agnes took the open spot next to Cupcake, hanging her jacket on the back of the chair. "You call that food?" she scoffed, taking a bite of eggs with sausage. "This is food."

Cupcake thanked her brother when he handed her a plate with two pancakes, three slices of bacon and sausage, eggs, and toast. He got himself the same, and asked if they wanted orange juice or milk.

"Orange juice, please." Cupcake told him, giggling when Agnes demanded a Venti Mocha Frappuccino.

Rowan poured her orange juice and set the glass beside Cupcake's plate. "Does this look like Starbucks?" he asked, pouring himself and Agnes two glasses of milk before sitting down next to them.

"What, you mean you're not working there?" The faux-redhead's eyes widened comically as she gasped. "We are so over!"

"Yeah right. You'll be begging to come back in two hours." Rowan smirked into his pancakes as he and Cupcake shared a look.

The younger sibling beamed, trying not to laugh at her brother's overenthusiastic friend. "I'm going outside to play," she said as she finished her breakfast. "Come on, Fen,"

Cupcake stood, putting her plate and glass in the sink to wash later.

"Make sure you don't wander too far." advised Rowan, as his sister grabbed a tennis ball off the floor by Fenrir's food bowl. "Wear a jacket, and come inside if you get too cold."

She nodded in response to the oft-repeated warning. Even though she had it memorized by now, it was nice to know he still cared. "I will, don't worry."

The dog followed her upstairs as she went to get a thicker jacket from her closet, and waited patiently until Cupcake was ready. She walked out the back door, tossing the ball across the yard, which ended at the treeline.

* * *

Inside, Agnes helped Rowan do the dishes. There was something cathartic about washing them by hand, but the dishwasher worked just fine.

"You never answered my question,"

Rowan dried a plate off and put it back in the cupboard. "About what?" He hung the towel he was using over the faucet.

"They think you're off the meds, don't they?" It wasn't a question, but she phrased it as one.

He paused. "Willow doesn't know, and keep it to yourself, all right? I don't want her finding out."

Agnes raised her soapy hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I wasn't going to anyway. But I think you should tell her sooner rather than later. It'll only get worse if you don't."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "I know." he muttered, "They're not going to let me see her if they know I'm still...and I just got back,"

She drained the sink, and washed her hands as he spoke. "Everything will be okay, Graham."

Rowan glanced at her. "How do you know they won't kick me out, and I won't ever see her again?"

"You just gotta believe."

He facepalmed. "Seriously? When did you get so frakking cheesy?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Friday Night - October 5th, 2012

Later that night, Cupcake spotted her brother with a tripod easel and large canvas, standing in the middle of the tarp-covered floor.

He had on an old paint-splattered t-shirt and sweatpants, which he swore were the comfiest things in the world besides hammocks.

What caught her attention, however, was the subject of Rowan's art.

In sweeping arcs and sharper lines of silver-black paint, the image that haunted her psyche took form with each brushstroke. Cupcake felt her chest tighten, heart beating so fast she thought it would burst.

The stereo began playing The Sound of Drums by Chameleon Circuit, loud enough to hear from across the hall, let alone downstairs.

As the song reached a particular line ("Don't try to fight them; it's too late."), she didn't care that the lyrics referenced something else other than what was happening to her. She turned and went to her room as quietly as possible, though it was unlikely Rowan heard her, much less saw her.

He was too absorbed in his painting, lost to her in a world she didn't understand.

Cupcake hugged her pillow to her chest, curled up in a ball. If her brother could see them too, why hadn't he said anything? She didn't know how else to describe it, unless...

An argument she heard once between their parents and Rowan came to mind.

"I swear I'm telling you the truth! They're real!"

"No they aren't. You just think they are because you can't face reality! This has gone on long enough, Rowan. You have to stop lying to us!"

"But I'm not!"

"We've made an appointment with the local psychologist. You're going whether you like it or not. We're sorry, but you need help, and if you won't be honest with us, maybe you'll be honest with somebody else."

"You can't do this. You can't!"

"We're your parents, we have to look out for you the best we can."

"Mom, this isn't fair. I'm not lying, I swear, I'm really telling the truth."

"Rowan! Stop! You can't tell the difference between what's real, and what isn't. Hartley Fitzwilliams' mother told me you couldn't even remember who she was, that you attacked her out of nowhere, saying she didn't exist, and she's not the only one this has happened to!"

"I...but... I don't remember..."

"This is exactly why you need help. We can't deal with this, Rowan. What if you hurt Cupcake? She's just a little girl! You can't stay in the house anymore, not until this problem goes away."

"You want me to leave? Fine. I'm out."

Cupcake didn't remember what happened after that, except she cried for hours because she didn't know what was going on. Her brother came home eventually, once he'd calmed down enough to realize their parents were right, and he needed to see someone about his condition.

She clung to the pillow tightly until she fell asleep, dreaming of hideous malignant figures, as everyone had since their happiness was stolen from them.

* * *

Rowan sighed and put down the paintbrush. His hand was cramping from holding onto it for so long. If he wasn't doing something productive, he got agitated.

Luckily the hobbies he had chosen worked to distract him enough not to give in to the rage bubbling under the surface. He may have looked calm and collected, to those he interacted with, however he was reaching his limit.

There was only so much he could take.

Shutting off the stereo, he walked into his bathroom, picking clean clothes off the hangers in his closet as he went.

Rowan lit various candles around the room one at a time, making sure every single one kept burning, before he put the lighter he had used back in the top drawer of his dresser. It had become habit since he stayed in places where electricity wasn't available, and kind of soothing.

He turned the shower on, praying to some distant god he'd forgotten the name of, that Agnes didn't choose to make a midnight call, and suddenly barge in. He wouldn't put it past her to ignore all the laws of common sense when it came to plebian things like a right to privacy.

Leaving his clean clothes on the counter, Rowan stripped and got in. The tension in his body melted away under the too-hot water, but he didn't care. It was totally worth it, unless he passed out, but he was pretty sure there was an app for that, or there would be.

Washing paint off his hands, he marveled at the fact their parents weren't home to keep an eye on their son, never mind that he had been a legal adult since he turned eighteen. Or maybe they were just glad to have a full-time babysitter for Cupcake now that he was staying with them again.

He knew his mother would never trust him to be Cupcake's guardian unless he could prove his sanity, and for the most part, he had. His father on the other hand, was an entirely different story. They hadn't really spoken since the incident with his former classmates, and it had become apparent that it was a relationship likely to never mend.

Rowan watched the candlelight flicker, dancing with shadows on the wall. It suddenly morphed into a quadruped shape by the shower door. He tensed, then realized it wasn't one of those horse-things, but Fenrir.

"I'm an idiot." He got out after he turned the water off, and toweled himself dry. "Time for your walk, huh?"

Fenrir stared at him, wagging her tail.

He dressed quickly, putting a leather jacket on over his hoodie. Since Agnes wasn't giving his old one back anytime soon, he had bought a replacement. He didn't bother with brushing his hair, unlikely as it was, that anyone would be out to see him at this time of night.

Grabbing his cell phone and house keys, Rowan pocketed a dog leash just in case. Fenrir was well-behaved, but sometimes she could get out of hand.

The young man checked in on his sister to make sure she was fast asleep before he left.

Fenrir bounded across the lawn, onto one of the many deer paths as Rowan locked the back door.

"Allons-y,"

He followed his dog through the dark woods. The moonlight gave him a clear view of the path they were on, which led them to the lake.

As Fenrir ran around in front of him, Rowan stopped when she saw something he hadn't. A nightmare glided through the trees, its golden eyes like a beacon in the dark. Before he could say a word, Fenrir chased the thing.

Once he got over his initial shock, the brunet ran after her. "Fen! Fenrir, get back here! Damn it!"

He didn't notice the gaping hole in the ground until it was too late.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Friday Night - October 5th, 2012

Rowan was strongly reminded of a spelunking accident, and sorely wished for equipment he no longer had. It would certainly make this much easier, never mind he could have avoided this from the start had he known it was there.

He knew it wasn't a well. He couldn't hear water below, so a soft landing was out of the question. He tried to brace himself against either side to slow his descent. The walls were too slippery, however, and he only managed to get a grip near the end before falling into a tunnel that converged on the entrance.

Winded, the brunet stared at the pinprick of moonlight above, through an antique, rotted bed frame with broken slats. _'How the hell did I miss that?'_ he thought, while he regained the ability to breathe.

The cave entrance was farther down than he anticipated. There was no way he could climb out with Fenrir's leash, his cell phone, and house keys. He was lucky enough to have barely stopped himself just in time, if he wanted to avoid serious injuries.

He glanced around to see if there were any pieces of wood lying around. He doubted it. Even if he could make a splint for a broken limb, the wood was probably too brittle to make a decent one.

As far as he could tell in such dim light, he had superficial cuts on his hands, and bruises that would show up by the next day. Taking his cell phone out of his pocket, he was disappointed to see the screen had cracked, and it wouldn't work. He pocketed it again.

Gingerly, he sat up, taking short breaths as the pain subsided. His head was pounding, however. Rowan lifted his left hand to touch the sore spot on the back of his head, eyes widening when his fingers came away bloody. The shock returned with blinding speed as he re-analyzed the situation.

"No, calm down, this isn't the worst thing that's happened to you. Just chillax, the cut isn't that bad anyway. Gonna be fine." he muttered to himself, repeating it until he was able to think clearly.

Rowan untied the laces on his shoes, then took off his socks to use as a makeshift rag. It was better to go without socks than the t-shirt he had on under his hoodie and jacket. He put his shoes back on, grateful he hadn't worn Converse, otherwise his feet would be colder than he was now.

Socks in one hand, he felt around with the other, to determine where the nearest wall was. Once he found it, he crouched, then stood, trying not to agitate his wound any more than need be. He pressed the socks against the cut to stem the blood flow, and began walking slowly down the tunnel, hoping there was a way out.

Rowan moved in the silent darkness, until a thought drifted to the front of his mind. He stopped to consider it, and turned around, going back.

"I'm alive,"

He didn't sound entirely convinced.

"But what if I did die from falling down here? This is stupid. Searching for my own body. What if I've been here a lot longer than I thought? It's just a corpse. Probably maggot-infested, and the rats have gotten to it. That would mean I'm a ghost, if I could see the evidence from my death."

He would have talked to Fenrir if the stupid dog hadn't gone off after one of those nightmare horses. It was better that she wasn't the one who fell, because she would have definitely died. He didn't know if he could handle it, had that actually happened instead.

"At least my parents aren't here to see this," he continued, "I'd be outta here faster than you could say: 'The Angels have the phone box.'" He made a note to visit the hospital, after he figured out the state of his existence.

The medication never seemed to help, or do what it was supposed to, but that was just his personal opinion. He spent half the time dealing with side effects, and the other half trying to channel his emotions into various activities, rather than people.

Over the years, he learned to keep himself busy with anything involving his hands, or not sitting still for too long. Painting was one hobby he had before the nightmares came. He still had old water-coloring books from when he was a toddler, and an extensive collection of fairy tales, which had been packed up and stored in the attic.

Rowan remembered that before his family moved to Burgess, his room was full of them. He mostly recalled pictures from the scrapbook his mother made as a gift to help him cope with the move, because he hadn't been old enough to fully comprehend that going across the country wasn't a bad thing.

Then there were nightmares so frightening, he couldn't stop seeing them everywhere he went. His parents had mistakenly assumed it was due to stress, and after Cupcake was born a few years later, jealousy that he no longer had their undivided attention.

Yet as he grew from childhood to young adulthood, the terrible affliction that haunted him, even in daylight, continued. Increasing in frequency and complexity, he developed a psychosis which hindered as much as it helped.

He hurt people as a result. He could hurt Cupcake, like his mother said all those years ago. If he did that, she would be separated from him, and no way in hell was he letting that happen.

Rowan gritted his teeth, applying more pressure to the wound. Finally, he reached the place where he came through. "Nothing there at all." he muttered, leaning on the far wall as he watched the sky above. "I suppose it could have been so long that I'm a pile of dust." He swiped a foot along the cavern floor and rolled his eyes. "And if I'm a ghost, how can I touch anything?"

The sudden absence of moonlight made Rowan step back. In the blink of an eye, black sand rushed into the cave, shapeless. At least it was, until it took the form of a man.

Fear took hold of him like a vice, cloying and so familiar, he would have been scared if he hadn't been. "And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee." he quoted Nietzsche, because he was eeriely reminded of those words the moment he saw the figure of a man, who was most definitely no longer a man, if it ever was a man to begin with.

Pitch Black stared at the newest intruder to his lair. "Can I help you?" he questioned with a trace of anger beneath the sarcasm. He was fairly certain his presence went unnoticed, like always, when the stranger replied in a most baffling manner.

"If you could help me get out of here, that'd be great. Actually, no, I have a question. Am I alive or dead? Because I'd really like to know so I can stop wondering about it. Though I'm pretty sure you're a figment of my imagination brought on by the concussion I probably have, but then why are you tall, dark, and handsome? Not that I'm complaining. I'll take that over being alone any day."

He spoke almost as quickly as that irritating bird-woman, Toothiana. Pitch hoped this was just a one-time thing, because if he were constantly that excitable, he would end up killing the other man just for being irritating.

"Who do you think I am?"

"Edward Cullen and Voldemort's lovechild?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Friday Night - October 5th, 2012

"You need medical attention." noted Pitch, wondering vaguely if he had just been insulted. Not that it mattered. He was used to insults from both humans and other spirits.

There was also the question of just how this man could see him. He was older than Jack Frost. But Pitch had forgotten age differences long ago, being the Bogeyman who scared children in the night.

"Wow, it's that obvious, huh?" said the brunet, lowering his arm so he wasn't putting pressure on the cut anymore. "If I had a dollar for every time someone said that to me, I'd be the richest man in the world." He smirked at the dark spirit. "But what's that worth, if you have nobody to share it with?"

Pitch had to admit he had a point, even though his musings didn't apply to him in the slightest. "I fail to see how your hypothetical wealth has anything to do with me. How did you come by this place? Did someone show you?"

If this man were connected to Jack Frost or any of the other Guardians, he would use him for bait. Then he would kill him. Possibly not in that order.

"Well... I was out with Fen, she saw a horse and chased it. I ran after her, and ended up here. Someone needs to cover that hole. It could be a Hellmouth for all we know."

"So nobody showed you, you were just dumb enough to trip and fall in?" questioned Pitch, already certain the man had a tenuous grip on reality as it was.

"It's not my fault I don't have night vision. But yeah."

He couldn't believe it. "Anyone else would have died," he pointed out, seeing the scrapes on the brunet's hands, and no injuries except the one on his head.

The man shrugged. "I used to explore caves a bit. That's also why I'm asking you if I'm dead or not. Because I don't know, so I thought you'd know."

Pitch blinked. There was something familiar about him that he couldn't shake; an old memory lost in the haze. "What if you are, what will you do then?"

"I don't know. Just deal, I guess. There's nothing I could do even if I was." he replied, moving from the wall to stand closer to Pitch. "Have we met before? What's your name?"

The spirit breathed in the intoxicating scent of fear, wanting to know how this man could be so afraid, and not show it. "If I am not my own person, but in fact, the product of your overactive imagination, I'm sure we've met. Pitch Black, and you are?"

"Rowan Graham." he answered slowly, like he was trying to figure something out.

Their eyes locked on one another, gold and hazel, before Rowan looked away. "You are too damn pretty." he said quite unexpectedly, because no one complimented Pitch if it wasn't an insult, and unlike earlier, he couldn't tell if this was a joke at his expense or not.

"Did Frost put you up to this?" He had to know, before the joke went too far, and he did something he might regret later. Like punching him in the face.

Rowan blinked in confusion. "Who? Do I have more personalities I don't know about?"

"Frost. Jack Frost." Pitch clarified with a bite to his words, just daring the other man to prove his suspicions correct.

"Bitch, please. No one believes in Old Man Winter anymore. I never did." said Rowan, "Sorry. I wasn't trying to be mean. It just came out."

Apparently he was wrong. The ice spirit didn't have an ally where Rowan was concerned, which put him at an advantage.

"Don't worry. I wasn't offended." Pitch walked around to see the back of Rowan's head, removing the bloody makeshift rag to inspect it. "Now this might sting a bit."

The man kept still, oddly not questioning what the spirit was going to do. He used a little of his sand to heal the wound, moving on to the brunet's hands.

"What'd you do that for?" Rowan asked as he stared at his palms, amazed.

Pitch smirked. "Let's just say it was a gift."

"Gift for what?"

"For believing in me when no one else does."

Rowan didn't know what to say in response to that, except, "You're welcome."

"Now let's get out of here. You have a life to get back to, after all." Without warning, Pitch grabbed Rowan around the waist, and merged with the sand, leaving the cavern.

Unlike Rowan's hallucination, little time had passed since he left the house to walk Fenrir. The dog in question was on the back porch waiting for her owner to return. She looked up at the noiseless spirit's approach, when the black sand materialized before the house.

She growled, hackles raised in defense, until she saw Rowan at Pitch's side. "Hey, girl, don't go running off like that, okay? You really scared me."

Taking the keys from his jacket pocket, Rowan just stared at the spirit for a second, unlocked the door, and went inside. Fenrir darted to the kitchen to eat. He glanced at Pitch, only to realize the man was gone.

Against his better judgement, he held the door open for a few minutes. The cool breeze passed over him in a rush as it blew into the house.

Rowan shut the door behind him, walked around the fireplace to the stairs, and up to his room without looking back. He was none the wiser to a certain winter spirit standing in the living room, watching him go.

* * *

Jack Frost had been passing by, on his way to Jamie's, when he saw the fearlings in the forest. He knew how Abby had reacted to Bunnymund, so there wasn't much of a difference when it came to the red husky he found chasing them. It was kind of funny, and he wanted to see who the dog belonged to, so he followed it home.

The worst part of it all was when Pitch randomly appeared, or not so randomly, as Jack had noticed. He was prepared to fight, though he kept hidden by lying flat on the roof. Why would the spirit of fear keep human company, though? The dog's owner, who looked a few years older than Jack, couldn't have believed in Pitch Black...could he?

His question was answered when the two men shared a look, or was the human staring at Pitch, and Pitch was just keeping eye contact? Then his enemy vanished after the other man went inside.

But the door was open.

Jack crossed the threshold, the man's actions not lost on him. Either he liked the night air, or he was waiting for Pitch to accept the silent invitation.

"This isn't good," he said to himself as he followed the man upstairs.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Monday - October 8th, 2012

**shinegrave:** L wants to know if we have sexytimes.

**arcticinferno:** What. I don't even...

**shinegrave:** I said no. Cause I'm not ending up on Sixteen and Pregnant, or Teen Mom. At all. Ever.

**arcticinferno:** Gravy, you're seventeen.

**shinegrave:** Yes, and your birthday is coming up, right? I still think it's adorbs you and Cupcake share the same birthday even though you're like a million years older than her.

**arcticinferno:** Please tell me you aren't planning a party.

**shinegrave:** A party? No. We're totally staying inside to watch Star Trek reruns and eat so much junk food our teeth fall out, and we'll have to wear dentures.

**arcticinferno:** ...How many people are coming?

**shinegrave:** Only a few close friends. That's it.

**arcticinferno:** I don't have friends.

**shinegrave:** Except I kind of invited the whole school.

**arcticinferno:** That's it. I'm running away to the North Pole. Maybe Peru. I've always liked Peru.

**shinegrave:** You are not running away anymore, you damn coward. I'm serious. I better not come over and find you've skipped the country again.

**arcticinferno:** Easy, baby. Me and crowds aren't a good mix, that's all. I'm not backing out on our promise. Even if I'm halfway around the world.

**shinegrave:** Better not. Till death do us part.

**arcticinferno:** Till death do us part.

**shinegrave:** Damn straight.

Rowan laughed at her conviction, imagining the girl with a serious expression on her face. Agnes and serious didn't go together. He had always known her to prefer things that made her laugh rather than cry, unless she was laughing so hard she started crying.

He got up to fold his laundry while he waited for her to keep typing. The chime of a new message alert drew him back to the computer. He folded the shirt in his lap while he read.

**shinegrave:** Did I ever tell you about what happened on Easter?

This was new. Rowan thought back to April, knowing he had sent Agnes a Fabergé egg for her birthday, but he was nowhere near Burgess or the States for that matter.

**arcticinferno:** No, I don't think you did. Why?

**shinegrave:** We went on an egg hunt, and get this: there were no eggs.

**arcticinferno:** Weird. But doesn't your family hide eggs around the house?

**shinegrave:** Yeah but this year we went out instead, and it was like no one cared to tell anyone that there wasn't going to be an egg hunt. Unless an army of mongooses stole them all.

**arcticinferno:** That's even weirder than the annual Easter egg hunt being canceled.

**shinegrave:** Hey, it could happen. The crows are going to get us one of these days. I just know it.

**arcticinferno:** Uh huh.

**shinegrave:** I can see you smirking.

**arcticinferno:** Lol what are you, omnipotent?

**shinegrave:** Yes.

Rowan shook his head, getting up again to put the shirt in his closet. He didn't know why Agnes had brought up something that happened six months ago. Her experience reminded him of a similar event where he was staying at the time.

**arcticinferno:** You know, I was in Egypt during Easter, and now that I think about it, I don't remember there being any eggs either. How is that even possible?

**shinegrave:** Maybe you're confusing third party info with an illusion. Are you sure you weren't just...you know?

**arcticinferno:** I have a hard enough time figuring things out on my own. I don't need you telling me I'm crazy too.

**shinegrave:** Hey, just saying. I wasn't there so I don't know what you do in other countries.

Despite her intention, he felt a little hurt that she was falling back on the visual hallucination card. She knew him better than anyone, besides his dog, and sometimes he couldn't understand the way Agnes thought.

He went downstairs to get a drink, passing his sister on the way. Cupcake had been avoiding him lately, and he didn't know if it was a girl thing or he had done something to upset her. He paused on the last step before going into the kitchen.

There was no way he could have hurt Cupcake, right?

Rowan must have spoken out loud, because he heard his mother respond as she came in through the side door, carrying groceries.

"What happened?" she asked, setting bags down on the counter.

His eyes widened and he opened the fridge, searching for a can of soda. "Nothing, just Cupcake being herself." he said, grabbed a Diet Coke, and popped the tab. "You need help with those?" He took a drink and put his Coke on the counter.

Mrs. Graham nodded, leaving her purse on the barstool. She hung her jacket over the counter, then went back outside to get the rest of the groceries.

Rowan followed her, noting that in his absence she had gotten thinner. He had only arrived three days ago, and assumed his parents wouldn't have left town for a weekend getaway until he got there. But then they'd called to tell him they left after putting Cupcake to bed, and he drove through most of the night to make sure he was home before morning.

He took bags as they were handed to him, going inside to put the cold stuff away first before it defrosted. He rearranged some things in the freezer to make room.

"So how was your weekend?"

Rowan considered which lie to tell. "Fine. Agnes came over." he said as succinctly as possible._ 'Got a new personality, still can't tell if I'm alive or dead, but enough about me. How about you explain why you left Cupcake alone before I got here. Afraid I'd chew you out for making me drive all this way?'_ he added mentally.

Mrs. Graham smiled. "That's good. I always liked her. Are you two dating yet?" she asked while she placed the dry goods in the pantry.

He frowned at that, taking a swig of Coke. "No. Why does everybody think we're dating? It's like a guy and a girl can never be 'just friends', it always has to be something more. I've known her all my life. That means she goes in the 'sibling' category of my brain."

"Feelings change." said the older woman.

Rowan counted backwards from a hundred in his head, to keep himself from blowing up at her. "Trust me, they're not. Agnes and I aren't going to be a couple anytime soon. She's too young, and I'm...not interested."

Mrs. Graham collected the empty grocery bags to throw in the trash. "But she's around your age, right? That's not too much of a difference."

He drank the rest of his soda in one gulp, wishing it were alcohol instead. "Mom, please. Don't push it. I know you want me to find someone, but Agnes isn't the one true love I've never been waiting for."

"Well you're always gallivanting around the world. Don't you think you should settle down?"

Rowan knew this had something to do with her feeling guilty over their treatment of his condition. She wanted him to stay close to home now that he was out of their reach, and have the life they didn't while he spent so much time away from home, at their original insistence. It had been the biggest mistake they ever made. The best, in Rowan's opinion. He resented them at first, but realized he needed to learn how to be independent and function like a normal person, although it was difficult.

"I'm not sure I want to."

He tossed the empty can in the trash, and hugged his mother for the first time in ages. "Sorry I couldn't live up to your expectations. I'm still trying to live up to mine."

Leaving his mother to think it over, Rowan walked upstairs to his room, and got back on the computer.

**arcticinferno:** Sorry about that, I went to get a drink and mom came home. She thinks we're dating.

**shinegrave:** Haha, no way. Mine too.

**arcticinferno:** Is it a mom thing or what?

**shinegrave:** I have no idea.

**arcticinferno:** I told her it wasn't happening.

**shinegrave:** Hell no. That's just weird. Best friends forever.

**arcticinferno:** Yeah.

Folding the rest of his laundry as he waited for Agnes to reply, he looked at the unfinished painting in the middle of his room. He never did get around to completing it after his accident in the woods, but the painting hadn't been on his mind.

He sat on the edge of his bed, wondering if he should attempt to finish it. He couldn't remember what he had in mind when he originally started it, and honestly felt like setting the piece on fire. The longer he looked, the more he hated the half-done portrait.

Rowan stood, took the canvas off the easel, and stuck it in his closet, facing the wall. Now he wouldn't have to look at it unless he wanted to.

His messenger chimed again.

**shinegrave:** Starbucks run. Coming?

**arcticinferno:** On my way.

Logging off the computer, he opened the door leading from his room to the balcony, which had a set of french doors going from the loft between his room, Cupcake's, and the guest room. Going over the railing, he used the rope ladder attached to it, and climbed down until his feet touched the grass. He had to buy a new phone as it was, and didn't want to go without for too long.

Fenrir was sleeping under a tree in the shade, getting up when she saw him. The dog looked up at one of the low-hanging branches, before she joined Rowan, getting in the truck.

What her human master had failed to see was the youngest Guardian perched in the tree, keeping an eye on him after he discovered Pitch wasn't as gone as they'd thought.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - Saturday - October 27th, 2012

Agnes watched Sophie Bennett topple over into the pile of leaves she'd just spent the last hour raking up. The little blond girl was having fun, so she left it alone. Her older brother Jamie was somewhere by the side of the house playing fetch with Abby.

She got up from sitting on the back steps and went to look for him. His mother was supposed to get home in an hour from work, and it wouldn't do if Jamie suddenly went missing.

"What are you doing?" she asked the younger boy as he paused mid-conversation with what looked like thin air.

"Talking to Jack Frost." he said like she should have known. Yes, it was totally obvious.

Agnes nodded slowly in response to the statement. "Uh huh...and is Cracker Jack behaving himself?"

Jamie blinked, then glanced at the empty space in front of him. "He says not to compare him to snacks. You have to call him Jack."

The seventeen-year-old crossed her arms over her chest, nonplussed. "I'll call him Jack when he earns my respect. Can't have you hanging out with a potential bad influence, you know."

"He's not bad." Jamie insisted. "He's super amazing and lots of fun!"

She looked over at the pile of leaves to make sure Sophie hadn't wandered too far. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"He says you have to believe first."

One Jamie Bennett was beginning to sound a bit like her, endlessly faithful, and forever cheerful. It gave her some hope to think he could possibly turn out to be better than Rowan as far as hallucinations went.

But this Jack Frost was just an imaginary friend, not some mental illness that made it hard for Jamie to interact with the people around him. He continued to play and behave like a typically average child, where her best friend had psychiatrists and medication.

Lately, it had gotten worse. Agnes didn't know if she could take a repeat of two years ago.

"Only if Cracker Jack proves it." she said, glancing at her cell phone to see if she had any messages or missed calls.

Abby ran and got the ball when Jamie threw it, barking at a passing vehicle until it pulled into the driveway.

"Ro-Ro, row your boat!" Sophie sang as the sound of Rowan telling Fenrir to stay in the truck reached her ears.

The greyhound barked again, jumping on the gated portion of the fence as Rowan approached with a box of pizza in hand. "Hey Agnes, I brought lunch. Hope that's okay." he said, undoing the latch while Jamie greeted him, and Agnes took the box.

"No, I think Mrs. Bennett will be glad, actually. She won't have to cook." Agnes replied with a laugh.

Rowan turned around and whistled for his dog. Fenrir jumped out of the back, and into the yard as he held open the gate.

Sophie grinned at the dog. "Fenny," she said, running her hands along the husky's back as Fenrir passed, stealing the tennis ball from Abby.

"Maybe I should fix a salad or something." Rowan mused. He knew how important it was to keep a healthy diet.

The redhead nodded in agreement, walking up the back stairs to go in. "Come on Jamie, Sophie, Cracker Jack. Time to eat." she told the kids, heading to the kitchen table to set the pizza down.

"Cracker Jack?" muttered Rowan.

Agnes got out plates and served them each a slice of pizza. She cut Sophie's into small bite sized pieces, before sitting down next to the blonde.

"Jack wants a slice too,"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine." Agnes gestured for Rowan to get a fifth plate, and he put it down in front of the empty chair at Jamie's left, and his right.

Jamie grabbed a slice, leaving it on the plate for his imaginary friend.

"So who's Cracker Jack?" Rowan asked Agnes, ignoring the chill that ran down his spine. It felt like someone had just breathed on his neck, or touched him with ice-cold fingers.

"Apparently Jamie is friends with the one and only Jack Frost." Agnes explained. "But I'm calling him Cracker Jack until I get proof."

Rowan looked at the chair to his right. "Really?" he said, half-expecting a full-blown hallucination as sleep deprivation got to him once again.

Insomnia, one. Rowan, zero.

"Frosty!" exclaimed Sophie, giggling.

Agnes sent the brunet a text under the table.

**To: Grahamcracker**

**You okay?**

He blinked at the incessant buzzing in his pocket, and put down his fork to check the message.

**To: Agnes**

**I thought I felt something. Don't worry about it.**

She shook her head, eating more pizza while Sophie danced in her chair.

**To: Grahamcracker**

**Felt what?**

Rowan shrugged in response, getting up to get a soda from the fridge, when it happened again.

The lightest brush of a hand under his shirt, an echo of laughter, and the scent of snow.

He tensed, and took out a can of Dr. Pepper, which was the only thing he could find besides Sprite.

**To: Agnes**

**Frakking swear something just touched me. Is this house haunted?**

She looked at the message once he sent it, with a frown. Maybe it was because Jamie kept mentioning his imaginary friend, it was having a bad effect on Rowan.

**To: Grahamcracker**

**No. You look like shit. Have you been sleeping? Just take a deep breath and come eat more pizza.**

He muttered profanities under his breath, not all of them in English, but did as told.

"Not really." he answered out loud, pocketing the phone and pushing a bit of crust around on his plate. "Just bad dreams. Bad everything."

Agnes took his plate and gave him another slice. The one on Jack's plate was gone. She assumed Jamie had eaten it.

"Take sleeping pills." she suggested, watching her friend carefully for any sign that he might crack.

Sometimes a certain phrase or situation made him lose it, and he didn't always remember what he did, or what happened afterwards. It was troubling, but something they had worked through most of his life.

He grunted. "No. I hate that. Makes me weak."

She didn't push the subject, but hoped he might at least take a nap later. He really did look awful. Rowan was good-looking most days, but sometimes, like today, his appearance took a turn for the worse.

Jamie looked between the two. "Sophie takes naps when she's cranky," he said helpfully.

Rowan almost choked to death on his pizza. "I'm not five years old anymore."

"Really? Could have fooled me." replied Agnes, unaware of the so-called imaginary friend as he watched and listened to them interact, moving to help the brunet until he started coughing.

"Lords of Kobol, don't do that." grumbled Rowan, drinking his Dr. Pepper all at once.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - Saturday - October 27th, 2012

Jack had spotted the healed cut on Rowan's head, and leaned over to check it out, accidentally touching him in the process. He sat back down until the man went to the kitchen for a drink, then saw bruises when his shirt rode up over his hips as he bent over to get whatever he wanted.

The next thing Jack knew, he was lifting up Rowan's shirt to get a closer look. He chuckled at the man's reaction. But he hoped that his initial worry had been unfounded. Those bruises could have been from anything. A fight, maybe, though Jack admitted that was a strange area to strike, or it could have been a fall.

Falling.

He respected Rowan and Agnes's privacy, not hanging over their shoulders while they texted one another. Jamie would have been suspicious if he had, besides probably wondering why he touched Rowan in the first place.

Sophie got down off her chair, wandering to the living room, where she had left her Barbies and dollhouse earlier. Jamie had to carry it downstairs because she insisted on having it in the living room to play with.

The winter spirit reclaimed his seat at the kitchen table, shepherd's crook leaning against the back of the chair. Rowan had looked right through him, unable to see. Able to feel and hear, to some extent, but nothing else.

"So where's Cupcake today?" Agnes was saying, though he wasn't really paying attention.

Jack's thoughts were on how the older brunet sitting next to him got those bruises. He knew they had something to do with Pitch. The first time he went to the other spirit's lair, he had fallen through the entrance in the woods, over by the lake._ 'So,'_ he concluded,_ 'the same thing must have happened to Rowan.'_

Being mostly immortal, Jack had a higher pain threshold than humans, so it was understandable that Rowan could have walked away with bruises, seeing that he survived the fall, where he wouldn't have normally.

"Ballet practice." said the man in question.

Agnes got up to find Tupperware for the leftovers, as Jamie put their dirty dishes in the sink. "Oh, is she having fun?"

"Dunno. She's had school and all, so I guess my sister's just distracted."

Jack was surprised to learn this. He hadn't been aware of the fact that Jamie's friend had a brother. He turned to the younger boy as he started wiping down the table.

"Rowan is Cupcake's brother?" He definitely hadn't been paying as much attention as he thought, but then, he was watching one more closely than the other after seeing him with Pitch.

The kid nodded, staying silent since they were in the house, and he didn't want Agnes to start teasing again. It was all in good fun, but she didn't know Jack was real.

"I see." he murmured, reflecting on when he had first met the somewhat chubby brunette girl, and hit her with one of his special snowballs.

"Are you going to go pick her up, or is your mom doing it?" Agnes wondered as she put the leftovers in the fridge, after labeling them.

Rowan threw the pizza box in the trash. "She is. I have work to finish anyway. I'll see you later,"

"You can spend the night if you want. Or I can come over. Whatever." the redhead suggested.

He shook his head. "Not tonight."

"Okay."

Jack took the opportunity to say his own goodbyes to the Bennett siblings. "Guardian stuff," he told Jamie.

"Bye!" Jamie said, hugging the blue-eyed spirit when no one was looking. It was still something that took some getting used to.

He followed Rowan out the back door, getting in the truck with Fenrir when she left the Bennetts' yard.

* * *

Instead of going through the house when he arrived, Rowan let his dog into the house, then climbed up the rope ladder to the balcony and his room.

Jack wondered briefly if the man were part monkey. Or maybe he just liked climbing things. He flew onto the balcony before the door could be shut, shepherd's crook between the door and the jamb. It swung open as Jack went inside, though he closed it to keep the cool air out.

He stayed out of the way while observing Rowan.

The brunet certainly looked related to Cupcake, although he was fit and toned, which reminded Jack more of the Pooka instead. He entertained a stray thought of the two getting into a fight, but not for long, as the brunet changed into sweatpants, a t-shirt, and grabbed painting supplies from his walk-in closet.

Jack thought it was a bit unusual for the closet to connect directly to the bathroom, but he was no architect. He followed Rowan from his room, to Cupcake's.

Her furniture had been moved out into the loft area, while a giant tarp covered the spot where her bed and nightstand had been. There was an elaborate outline for a mural on the wall of a unicorn lying down in a grassy meadow, with mountains in the distance.

He assumed Rowan must have started the project when his sister went out for the day, because only a part of it was finished. The mural itself would probably take a few weeks to complete, if the man didn't work through the nights trying to get it done.

Watching the hazel-eyed man take an outline, and bring the painting to life, Jack thought about the things he had missed doing with his own sister. She was long dead, with the rest of his family, and though it had been centuries, that didn't mean it hurt any less.

The hours passed well into the evening, but Rowan had yet to take a long break. He only left to use the bathroom or get something to keep himself hydrated, and a bag of chips for snacks, but that was it.

He set up lights around the room, which were uncomfortably bright, like looking into the sun. Then he kept working, completely oblivious to the world around him, even when Jack stole a few chips after a while. He had eaten only one slice of pizza, and the bag was right there.

What Jack didn't expect was for the other man to actually trip and fall off the step ladder he had been standing on.

The spirit caught him under the arms, supporting his full weight as they both crashed to the floor. He had no idea that Rowan had just seen a nightmare form within the mural.

"What the...?" murmured Rowan.

He had fallen off the ladder, and someone had caught him. Someone was under him, but he couldn't see them. He considered a very intense hallucination, yet this was so real. It felt like a pair of arms, a lithe body, and very masculine.

He closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten, aware of shockingly cold hands on his shoulders, and everything he was feeling. The same sensation that had come across him during lunch at the Bennett house.

Pitch's words came to mind, when he had asked about Frost, then both Bennett children had mentioned the mythological figure, as well as Agnes, probably because Jamie had told her.

Now he was imagining that Jack Frost was real.

"Fuck me." he whispered, "This can't be happening."

Rowan pushed himself up off the floor, the pressure vanishing from his body, although the chill remained. He had goosebumps, and the temperature in the room had dropped several degrees.

Across the room, Jack stood in the corner, surprised. The way the other man had tensed up in his grasp meant that he had felt more than just a touch, like before. Rowan had been able to feel his physical form, yet remained blind to his existence.

It was the strangest thing Jack had ever encountered.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 - Wednesday - October 31st, 2012

Agnes found him working on another painting the morning of his birthday. She walked from the balcony into his room, going around the line of blank canvases leaned against the wall. "Graham, when was the last time you slept?" she asked, blinking when he looked up and glared at her.

He hadn't glared like that since the day they sort-of became friends. Well, in her defense, she was worth a hell of a lot more than his then-favorite pair of jeans any day. She knew she shouldn't feel bothered by his reaction, because it wasn't always him personally attacking her. It was the condition or medication side effects.

"Sunday," he answered shortly, looking back at the canvas, which had been tilted back on the easel at a sharper angle. "I had to finish it."

Agnes was careful not to bump into and knock over buckets of paint that littered the floor. He had a tarp down all the time, but accidents happened. "You haven't talked to me since Saturday. I was busy too, but that's no excuse. Are you doing okay, Graham? I can take you to the doctor if you want, if the medication isn't working. We can try something else."

He shook his head vehemently. "I'm still trying to get by without it. I can't have anything bad happen just because I haven't taken my meds." he said, "I need to prove that I can do this."

The redhead watched him paint an intricate diagram of the circulatory system. "I know," She wondered how many medical texts he'd poured over to get everything right; there were so many lines. "Does this have a name yet?"

"No, it's not done."

"Well it looks good. I like it. Biology was never my thing, but this is pretty cool." she said, as he painted near the figure's feet. "Is it done now?"

Rowan picked up a container full of black sand, then sprinkled it over the canvas while the paint was still wet. The tiny grains stuck to the surface, excess spilling onto the floor. "Now it's done."

"Huh. Interesting. Got a name for it, or are you still thinking of one?"

He closed the lid on the container, putting it down on the floor. "Hourglass Prison." he answered simply. "I finished Willow's gift. She's been sleeping in the guest room, because I forbade her to see it until it was complete."

"Trust you to finish that in four days. You're going to show me though, right? What were you on?" she asked, half joking.

"Coffee and tea, mostly." he admitted, yawning. "The voices returned, and I couldn't concentrate. They keep telling me to open the door, but fuck if I know what that means."

Agnes bit her lip, tasting cotton candy. "You mean like when you hear people on tv talking to you, even though they're not?"

Rowan nodded. "It's troublesome..." He yawned again and stretched. "I don't have a kid, do I?" he wondered as his thoughts got mixed up with his speech.

"No, you're not a father as far as I know. Unless Fenrir counts." said Agnes. "Come on, I wanna see Cupcake's room, and then you can take a shower, get something to eat, and sleep until she gets home from school."

He let her take him by the hand, going into his sister's room.

"Oh, this is awesome." his friend told him, staring avidly at the unicorn mural. "It blends well with the pink walls like...perfectly. I want one."

The meadow had clusters of different flowers here and there, some braided in the unicorn's mane. The sky beyond the mountain range depicted either a sunrise or sunset, but it was beautiful either way.

Rowan hummed, scratching the back of his head. He was glad she liked it. He hadn't done a piece quite that large in a while. "Thanks...can I shower now? I haven't taken one in days."

She turned to look at him. "Yes, go, you smell." she said.

He scoffed, flipped her the bird, and went back to his room so he could wash.

Agnes rolled her eyes at the offensive gesture, reminded of years past when he was a downright bastard. He still kind of was, depending on the day, which she considered his man-period. She didn't know what else to call it, except maybe sympathy pains.

The seventeen-year-old left Cupcake's room, wondering where the younger girl was. Probably downstairs eating breakfast before school. Agnes had decided to skip, because it was Halloween, her favorite day of the year.

She headed downstairs to the kitchen, saying hello to the girl's parents.

Mr. Graham waved from the dining table as he read the paper.

"Did you come through the window again?" asked Mrs. Graham teasingly.

Agnes ruffled Cupcake's hair as she sat next to Rowan's little sister. "You know me, I'm secretly a ninja."

"Not much of a secret if you just told us, is it?" said Mr. Graham.

Although he didn't have quite as good a relationship with his only son as Agnes did, he was happy that Rowan had someone outside of their immediate family to rely on. They had spent a lot of their life together, it wouldn't surprise him if the two decided to get married in the future.

"Well... you're just jealous!" Agnes grinned.

Cupcake laughed. "I don't think you could be a ninja."

"Why not?"

"You're not quiet enough."

"Ouch, Will-o'-wisp."

Mrs. Graham chuckled as the girls teased one another. She filled the dog's water bowl with fresh water, then put it on the floor by her food. "Not going to school today, Agnes?"

The teenager shook her head, taking her hair tie out and fluffing the bright red locks. "I have a party to plan. I don't have time for trivial things like school. I'm not like other girls, I'm special." she joked.

Cupcake tried not to laugh, and failed. "Let me guess, you picked out the perfect costume for my brother."

"Yes." said Agnes in all seriousness, "Yes I did, and no, you can't know what it is."

Mrs. Graham smiled. "You know you want to tell us."

"Nope! Can't bribe me either. Unless you have a Venti Mocha Frappuccino somewhere, I shan't say a thing."

She placed the hair tie around her right wrist, leaning down to pet Fenrir as the husky walked over. "Hey, pretty girl, how you doing? Yeah I know, it's Graham's birthday, huh?" she said to the dog.

"I can't believe he's twenty-two already." Mrs. Graham spoke up. "And that Cupcake is eleven. It seems like it was only yesterday when they were just kids."

Agnes nodded as she listened to the woman. "Yeah, it's been a long time, hasn't it?" she agreed.

"Speaking of," started Mr. Graham, "you never told us how you two met. All Rowan would say is: 'This crazy girl ambushed me.' and that was it."

The girl blinked, looking at their expectant faces. Even Fenrir was in on it, resting her head on Agnes's knee.

"I thought I told you, didn't I?"

They shook their heads. "Nope." said Cupcake.

"All right, well... it went something like this..." Agnes made sure they were all listening before she continued.

"One morning before school, I was the only one at the bus stop, and some of the older kids were bothering me. I think I was six or seven, which would make Graham ten or eleven. Anyways, they asked why I was alone and where were my parents, making fun of me because they were secretly jealous of how awesome I am,"

Cupcake snickered into her glass of orange juice.

"So I said: 'I'm waiting for my best friend.' and they were like, 'I don't see anybody, you're just making that up!' and 'round the corner comes Graham, and they looked at him, cause he was the cutest boy in their class. 'He's right there,' I told them. I ran up to him and gave him a hug like you wouldn't believe, I thought he'd die of shock, the look on his face, oh man..."

Agnes straightened her shirt and ran a hand through her hair, combing tangles out with her fingers.

"'You're best friends with him?' they asked, cause they were totally surprised, and jealous. 'No way!' said this one girl who had a crush on Graham like everyone else. 'Yeah, huh,' I said, while he just kinda stood there all dumbfounded and shit (sorry Cupcake). 'Best friends forever! Till death do us part!' and elbowed him in the ribs because it's how I show affection, and he was like, '...Till death do us part.' and that's how I knew we were gonna be together forever, cause that's like a marriage proposal right there, and those jealous bitches (sorry) knew it."

Cupcake blinked, sharing a look with her parents. "Seems legit."

"Yes, that does sound about right." agreed Mrs. Graham, nodding along with her husband.

Agnes smirked. "Told you I was awesome."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 - Wednesday - October 31st, 2012

Rowan went straight to bed instead of joining Agnes downstairs for breakfast. He thought about it, but after so long without sleep, he didn't have the energy. He was surprised he hadn't fallen asleep in the shower as soon as he stopped focusing on staying awake.

He closed the curtains, pulling the blinds on the balcony door. He didn't want to be woken up just because it was too bright. Rowan appreciated the luxury though. He had a bed instead of a cot, and it was better than sleeping on the ground.

The voices he had been hearing for the better part of this week quieted. He sighed, knowing it wouldn't be for long. He could live without them filling his head with conspiracy and lies. It was like listening to white noise with people talking in the background, and the volume of their voices kept changing depending on the situation.

At first they had just been voices speaking unintelligibly, but as time passed, their words became clearer. He covered his head with the comforter, drifting to sleep.

Sometime later, around mid-day, he woke with a start. There was someone standing at his bedside, and he was too exhausted to tell who it was. He grabbed and tossed them on the bed, holding them down.

"Bitch, let me sleep!" he snapped, glaring. He didn't enjoy being woken up for no reason after pulling all-nighters.

"That was rude." said the Nightmare King. Rowan blinked, then suddenly went slack. He released Pitch, muttering an apology as he rolled over to face the wall instead.

The reaction piqued his curiosity to say the least. He knew about everyone's dirty little secrets, but Rowan was a bit of an odd case, for one whose nightmares never left. "I don't see why you're apologizing," he told Rowan's back, made to get up, and was thwarted again.

Rowan had taken his arm and positioned it so they lay side-by-side in an embrace. "Because I don't want to hurt you." He almost didn't hear the whispered response, but indulged the other man, and held him.

Being mistaken for someone who didn't exist, or the memory of one, as Rowan seemed to treat him, was not what he expected. He watched the dark thoughts, and the vague recollection pass through the sand.

The images surged forth, wavering on thin air, before they sunk into nothingness. Whomever had the chance to know Rowan more intimately than Agnes, had met an unfortunate end to their relationship. It still troubled him, despite his silence.

However, the details Pitch managed to uncover from the man's subconscious mind were not things he wished to know, much less experience. He looked at the faded mark on the back of Rowan's head where he had cut it open, and wondered whether or not his nightmares had driven his prey too far.

At what point had they become his reality?

He couldn't tell the difference between his state as a living, breathing human, or as a ghost. He went through his days normally, the people around him blissfully unaware that the brunet was slipping farther and farther away. Pitch knew that Rowan had told no one of his encounter in the woods that night, because his obnoxious friend would have said something.

The man's breathing evened out, a sign that he'd fallen back to sleep. Pitch didn't try to extricate himself from the somewhat precarious situation. Based on what he knew now, it would be dangerous, were he human, much less alive. He had equal opportunity to create havoc within the man's mind, while he slept in close proximity to the spirit. He welcomed the intrusion, so used to it by now, that anything less than fear was treated with suspicion and distrust.

Pitch needed to be careful this time, otherwise Rowan could reject his influence completely, and his efforts would be all for naught. The black sand he created flowed through his fingers, dusting the side of Rowan's face as it touched his closed eyes.

He stirred, but stayed asleep as old memories became the grounds for new nightmares, and ones he hadn't had in a while.

Satisfied, Pitch moved off the bed, going back to his lair.

That afternoon, Rowan attended the party his parents were having for Cupcake. She had seen the artwork he'd done for her, and was surprised, but pleased. He was constantly doing things to make her happy, without asking for anything in return.

Jamie Bennett's mother dropped him off, as well as the twins, and a blond boy whose name Rowan could never remember, even though they lived across the street from him. There were other children he didn't know as well, who apparently went to school with Cupcake.

"Aren't you going to eat?" said a voice in his ear.

Rowan turned to address the speaker, to find the space beside him unoccupied. He was leaning on the stairs, watching the group of children talk and laugh as they sat around the kitchen table. He glanced at the living room to his left, looking through the railing in case someone was on his other side.

Nothing.

"I'm losing my damn mind." he said to no one in particular, and received another eerie reply.

"Well that's true," the voice agreed.

The brunet ran a hand through his hair, feeling like the voice was laughing at him or something. He stood to go back upstairs, when Agnes jumped him. "What the hell, where did you come from?" he exclaimed, clutching the railing for support as she let go of whatever she had been carrying.

"Narnia!" she replied, "Can I use your bathroom?"

He dropped her on the stairs. "You only like me for my money." he said in a mild tone.

"Your bathtub has jets." Agnes told him like that was all that mattered, picked up her dry cleaning or whatever, and ran to his room.

Rowan shook his head at her antics, following her after a moment.

She had locked the bathroom door under the pretense of 'absolutely no peeking', not that he would have done anything like that. He wasn't interested, and while he had seen her naked before, the desire to be more than friends wasn't there.

He sometimes wondered if he might be holding her back from forming relationships of her own, or if she was satisfied with the way things were. She had always been with him, through the good times, and the bad.

"If she were unhappy, she'd say something," he told himself while he waited.

"I don't know," said the voice, "but I don't know her like you."

Rowan rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Yeah, you do, if you're me."

"Well, I'm not."

"That's a relief...wait, what?"

The bathroom door opened to reveal Agnes, who had changed out of her normal clothes and donned Kairi's from Kingdom Hearts.

He blinked. "I'm not going as Sora, am I?"

"No, I wouldn't do that to you." she said with a laugh when he just looked at her. "Okay, maybe I would, but not this time."

Rowan glanced at the bathroom, where she had hung whatever his outfit was over the counter. "Who, then?"

"Squall, of course."

A moment of silence, then, "Remind me to kill you for this."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 - Wednesday Night - October 31st, 2012

"How did you even get the keys to this place?" Rowan asked as they stood in front of a seemingly abandoned warehouse. She gave him an incredibly vague answer that made him never want to question her again.

"Squirrels."

Agnes unlocked the door, going inside.

The place had been redecorated to suit the Halloween theme, and he knew she must have spent a few weeks getting everything in order. He spotted her group of friends that she hung out with besides him, trying to remember their names as he identified their costumes.

He recognized Lexaeus, Basch, and Yuffie, but only knew one of them. He didn't know who the others were, and if she had invited her school like she said, he wouldn't know most of the guests, if any.

Sure, their mutual acquaintance L was the Lexaeus cosplayer, however, he passed right by the younger teenage boy, taking a deep breath. "Suck it up, Shinji, don't run away." he told himself as he made his way over to the seating area.

Agnes was watching him the whole time, because she had followed him over, until she was detained by L. The talkative boy engaged her in conversation about some new game console versus an older one.

Gradually, the warehouse became crowded with party-goers that Agnes had invited. He stayed out of the way, glad he had chosen to take over one of the comfier sofas in the seating area. The couple that passed him to find a better spot to make out looked annoyed, but he felt that it was first come, first serve.

There were plenty of sofas and chairs to choose from, it wasn't his fault that he happened to occupy the one half-hidden in the dark.

He scanned the crowd for his friend after a while, but couldn't see her among the sea of bodies. As he watched people having a good time, and drinking, he saw someone in a Rinoa cosplay who wasn't.

The girl had a cup in one hand, trying to pull away from a boy with the other. He was ignoring the fact that his advances were unwanted, judging from the expression on her face.

Rowan debated for a microsecond whether or not to leave the sofa, but no one else seemed to notice the girl's predicament. She needed help, and while he was no hero, he tried to be a good man.

He got to his feet, sighing. Hopefully there wouldn't be a fight, because he didn't want to spend the night in jail. Going through the crowd of dancers, he approached the two.

"-my boyfriend is coming any second!" she was saying, and Rowan had the feeling he was about to be conned into yet another relationship like he had when he was ten years old, and Agnes threw herself at him like some crazy fangirl.

"Come on, don't be like that," the boy whined. Rowan hoped he didn't sound that stupid when he was drunk off his ass.

"Leave me alone!" she insisted.

When she tried pulling away again, she bumped into one of the buffet tables lining the wall, only to end up on the floor with the boy. The punch bowl spilled over, getting them both covered in the spiked drink. He didn't move, despite her efforts to kick him off.

Rowan grabbed the back of his shirt and forcibly removed the boy from her personal space. "One piece of advice: when a girl says 'no,' she doesn't mean 'yes.'" he said.

The boy scowled. "I wasn't doing anything," he lied.

"You better listen to him," said the punch-covered girl, "that's my boyfriend."

He looked from Rowan, to the girl, and back. "This guy? Yeah, right." he scoffed.

"Uh, hello, Squall Leonhart, Rinoa Heartilly... you can bet your dumb ass they're together." spoke up the Yuffie cosplayer from behind him. The boy jumped and turned to face her. "Get out of here before I call the cops, because you ruined the party."

"It's Leon." Rowan informed her as the boy cursed, muttering something about how it sucked anyway, and disappeared in the crowd.

She rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Squall."

"...Whatever."

The brunette on the floor chuckled. "Hey, thanks for that." she said as her friend helped her up. "I'm Kara, and this is Wendy." she introduced, gesturing to the other girl.

"Rowan," he told them, "Nice to meet you."

"You too."

Kara picked at her clothes, looking disappointed. "Shit, now it's ruined. I can't believe that jerkass." she muttered, the blue fabric dyed a pinkish-purple in some places.

"Don't worry about it." Wendy patted her on the arm. "Clothes can be replaced."

Rowan nodded in agreement. "Luckily nothing worse happened."

He looked across the room where he had left the sofa, to see if it was still unoccupied. "Want to go sit down?"

"Actually, I should probably go home and change." Kara tugged at her arm warmers, taking them off.

Wendy smirked. "Maybe your boyfriend can drive you." she teased.

"Oh, I don't know..." said Kara, looking at Rowan to see what he thought.

"I don't mind." he said. "Unless you don't want me to."

She shook her head. "It's okay, you can drive. I'll call you later, okay, Wendy?"

The other girl shrugged. "I might be asleep, but do what you want as long as you're careful."

Kara blushed. "Wendy!"

"I'm just sayin',"

Rowan looked around for his friend again. "If you see Agnes, tell her I drove Kara home."

"You went home with Kara. Got it."

The brunette took his hand, leading him through the crowd to the front entrance. "Come on Squall, let's go."

"It's Leon."

He helped her into the truck, holding the door open while she got comfortable. "So where do you live?" he asked as she buckled her seat belt.

"Not too far, just on the other side of the lake," she said.

Rowan nodded, started the engine, and waited for it to warm up before he turned on the heat. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked as he pulled out of the parking lot, and onto the road.

"Yeah, I mean, it was kind of scary, but I wasn't alone. You were there to help."

"Things like that happen sometimes. They shouldn't, but they do."

Kara smiled. "Really, though, thanks."

"You're welcome."

He followed the directions she gave him, grateful the traffic wasn't bad. It only took about forty-five minutes to get to her place.

Rowan parked in the driveway. "If you want to go back to the party, I can wait." he suggested as she got out.

"No, thanks. I'm pretty tired, but maybe we can do something this weekend?"

He thought about it, before nodding. "Sure."

"Gimme your phone."

The brunet opened the glove box where he had left it, and handed it to Kara.

She added her number to his contacts, before she returned it, and gave him her phone to add his.

"Done." he said, handing her phone back.

She pocketed it. "Awesome. I'll text you later. Bye, Squall." Kara waved as she walked up to the front door of her house.

"It's Leon!" he called after her.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 - Wednesday Night - October 31st, 2012

The party was still going on by the time he returned. He managed to find a spot about two blocks away. Rowan didn't want to get caught in after-party traffic and having to wait for groups of people to find their rides, or call one.

Slipping past some guests who were leaving early, he made a beeline for the couch again. He couldn't really blame people wanting to go home before it got any later. Halloween wasn't a holiday where schools closed, or were let out early.

Most of them probably had school tomorrow, if they weren't in college and had a schedule that allowed them to go to parties held in the middle of the week.

He was pretty sure his own insomnia had gotten Agnes used to odd hours, and wondered again, whether or not he had monumentally fucked up her own life. Anyone else would have left him the first chance they got, and they had, if he didn't leave them first.

Being labeled a psycho didn't help, but it wasn't his fault people were scared of something they couldn't understand. Worse, something they couldn't control. Especially as a child, growing up with few friends, if any, save Agnes. The others either abandoned him due to their own preconceptions, or their parents' valid concerns.

It hurt, and eventually, he gave up on ever having someone besides Agnes.

So he left.

Packed his bags, ran, and just kept running.

If he didn't have her, or his baby sister, or Fenrir, he knew he would've never come back. He would have stayed away, drifting through the world alone. Going from country to country, until his time was up.

Or be locked in an asylum somewhere for the criminally insane.

Music pulsed through the speakers, loud and deafening. He almost made it to the seating area, when someone pulled him back.

There was an arm around his waist. He looked down, recognizing the Organization XIII cloak, and the nineteen-year-old it belonged to.

"Did you want something, L?"

Rowan turned his head to look at the ginger, almost auburn-haired young man, who grinned. "Just a dance. This is your party after all." Multicolored lights swept across his face and bounced off the walls.

"L-" the other man protested, on the verge of using his full name, but was cut off.

"It's just a dance, okay? I'm not going to ask for anything more than that." said L, blue eyes shining with something Rowan couldn't identify. Maybe it was just his imagination.

The brunet sighed. "Fine," he relented, against his better judgement.

L smirked. "You haven't pulled away from me." he pointed out, his arm still hooked around Rowan's waist.

"Dancing requires a certain closeness, doesn't it?" said Rowan, thinking he should be screaming at L for being a stupid boy who should know better.

He wanted to.

"Among other things," L agreed, the innuendo not lost on him.

Memories flared to life as L guided him onto the dance floor, and a new song played. Why did the simplest gestures, or a particular sound, the barest glimpse of something familiar, have to bring the past with it?

He mirrored L's steps, trying not to think.

Rowan let go when the song was over, noticing with some discomfort that they were still close. It just felt so natural, and he hated it. Because if he fell back into old routines, he could regress further, and...

"You've got that look again,"

"What look?" he muttered, putting distance between them now, as he headed for a vacant chair.

L was right beside him. "That I've-gone-insane-and-everything-is-a-lie look you had when you tried to kill me." he answered far too easily.

The brunet scowled, taking a seat, and making sure there was no room for L to sit down. "I don't know what you're playing at. You must be insane if you're talking about it like old news. What do you want from me? I've apologized half a million times. Fuck, I left you! I walked out the door and I said I wasn't coming back, so what do you want?"

"I got over it. I know just as well as Agnes how hard this is for you. She could have been the one, if it hadn't been me." L pushed Rowan's legs to the floor, and perched on the arm of the chair. "Yes, you hurt me, and other people. It hurt for a long time. But I accepted it and moved on. I think you're the one who wants something he can't have."

The answer gave Rowan pause. "That was harsh." he murmured, regretting this conversation. He had a lifetime of regret, and no matter how faded his memory became, the regret would last forever.

"It's the truth." L took the chance to lean closer. "You hate yourself, don't you? I know you feel like you're alone, or that nobody understands, but the fact that you have schizophrenia doesn't make you any less of a person. If someone you date can't accept that, then they don't deserve you. And don't say I'm one of those people, Ro. You never gave me a chance."

He could see his reflection in L's eyes. Saw the life he didn't think he could ever have. "I don't want to hurt you." he said, aware he'd already said something like this before.

The rage in L's voice was palpable. "It's too fucking late for that, Rowan, you already have!"

"Not again!" he retorted sharply, "Never again."

L closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself. "I said I wasn't going to ask you for anything, and I won't. Not even a date."

"So you want to have sex."

"I never said that!"

"You implied it."

"...Maybe."

Rowan chuckled quietly, anger forgotten. It was too easy, behaving this way around L, after all this time. Perhaps he even...

"I still love you."

He must have spoken aloud, because L was sitting there, staring, like the brunet had just told him he was a Cylon.

"I love you too." L said after a moment of stunned silence.

There was no happy embrace, or anything like Agnes's favorite romantic comedies, where the lead couple broke up and got back together in the end.

The road to Hell was paved with good intentions. Rowan was almost positive he was halfway there. If this revelation didn't prove it, he didn't know what would.

Instead, they sat in silence, quietly mulling over what just happened, and where to go from here.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 - Thursday - November 1st, 2012

Once the party was over, and all the guests had gone, Rowan drove Agnes home. She was not the least bit exhausted. He said nothing, while she chattered about who she'd seen, or what they'd spoken of. Something to do with pranks. He couldn't remember.

He pulled into the garage, shut the engine off, and followed Agnes inside. She practically dragged him upstairs, bitching about how he was taking too long. He was tired, both physically and mentally. "I'm coming, for the love of Morgoth, shut up, please..." He may have begged, just a little bit.

Rowan hissed in pain as he bumped into the door frame having made it up the stairs without incident. He rubbed his shoulder, shielding his eyes when Agnes flipped the light switch.

"Oh, don't be such a baby, Graham. You're not a vampire." said Agnes, rummaging through her dresser for something to sleep in. He grumbled as she tossed some of his own clothes at his head, catching them just in time before they hit the floor. "It's only like three in the morning, how come you're sleepy?"

His eye twitched and he looked at her California King-sized bed longingly. "Maybe cause this vampire hasn't gotten much sleep in a few days." he replied, turning around to close her bedroom door as she began changing.

Of course she would have made him go in a costume absolutely covered in belts and shit. Next year, he was going to force her to go as Lulu. See how she liked the insane belt obsession. But then she'd probably make him go as Vincent, or something.

"You took a nap."

Rowan glared at her. "You try staying up four days straight, and see if you're not still tired after a nap. Besides, that bitch woke me up and I thought it was you, but no. Fucking voices." he muttered, then paused. The girl was pulling a t-shirt over her head, wearing nothing else but frilly panties. "I'm going to take a shower."

He went into the adjoining bathroom, stripped out of his costume, and folded the clothes, leaving them on the counter. They weren't made cheap, nor would Agnes put anything less than her best into a project like Halloween costumes. If he were a little more into it, he could probably wear the outfit on a daily basis. Maybe not all of it, but some.

Rowan got in the shower, washing all the gel from his hair. It took a lot of product to get the look just right, although maybe that was just Agnes. "It has to be perfect." She said that about everything, being this side of having an obsessive compulsive disorder when it came to replicating fashion.

He heard her come in to brush her teeth, muttering something about a lack of toothpaste. "You almost done?" she asked.

"Yeah, hang on." he said, wondering when she was going to comment about the voices. She took everything in stride, which was fairly amazing.

Agnes brushed her teeth, and spat in the sink, rinsing it out. "I saw you with L."

He tensed, hands in his hair. "Yeah, well, what do you expect? It's L. He dances with everyone."

"Not tonight, he didn't. Just you."

He watched the soapy water circle the drain, until the water ran clear, and he couldn't stall any longer. Rowan turned it off, stepping out of the shower, and grabbing a towel.

"Is there something going on that I don't know about? He didn't try to get in your pants, did he?" she asked, looking at him.

He shook his head. "No, not...exactly. We argued, but that's nothing unusual." He dried his hair and let the towel hang around his neck as he got dressed. "I might have told him I loved him," Rowan added.

Agnes blinked a few times. "You and L are going out and you're in love, and how did I not know this?"

"We're not dating," he clarified. "We did, but not anymore. Not after I hurt him."

That was all he had to say to get her to shut up in understanding.

"I...wow. You and L." she said after a moment, and now that he thought about it, she might have been wearing one of his t-shirts. "I knew he knew, but I didn't know..."

"It wasn't really advertised to the public," Rowan muttered.

Agnes nodded, a sad expression on her face. "I'm sorry." she apologized needlessly, though she had done nothing wrong.

He ruffled her hair, getting his own toothbrush out of the container by the sink. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It should be me." he said, "I'm the one who tried to choke him to death."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "That wasn't you. You didn't mean it."

"Except it was. Hallucinations, voices, side effects, or no, my hands were around his neck. Could have been you. Anyone. That's why I left. How could I be so selfish as to think I could stop it from happening again? Or worse."

He brushed his teeth and rinsed the sink when he was done. The fear of causing someone pain like that, was what kept him alive. Made him watch his own actions to ensure that he wouldn't hurt another person so badly. Not even if they were figments of his own imagination.

If he so much as went back to thinking he was justified in his actions, that he could go ahead and hurt someone regardless of his problem, then he wasn't human anymore. He wouldn't be a person, but a monster.

Agnes didn't say anything, leaving the bathroom, and getting under the covers.

Rowan turned off the bathroom light, and the lamp on her dresser, before he joined her. He knew what he said was bothering her a lot. Since forever, Agnes claimed he would never hurt her, because they were the best of friends, practically brother and sister.

If he did, he would leave, just like he left L.

Flee the country to some remote destination, like the coward he was. Even if she forgave him for whatever crime he committed against her, no matter how serious, he knew he couldn't bring himself to stay. He would run, and keep running, and what wouldn't he give for a certain madman with a box to take him away?

Nothing could change what had already happened, because he would remember it. The night that haunted him through the dark hours was terrible enough. If he hurt Agnes on top of that...

He closed his eyes. All the time in the world, would never be enough to make up for what he had done. Even if L forgave him, his sins weighed too heavy. Even if L were wonderful and foolish enough to love him anyway, he couldn't risk it.

They were both fools, and stupid enough to make the same mistakes. Was it worth it in the end? He didn't know anyone else who was quite all right with dating someone who had tried to kill them accidentally. But then, L did understand, like Agnes.

L continued to feel pain over the incident, that much was for sure. He was probably afraid something like it could happen to him again, and yet, the things he said... Maybe it was worth it.

Even if he hadn't understood a damn thing back then, he did now.

"Oh, man, I don't deserve you," Rowan whispered inaudibly, pressing a hand against his eyes to stem the onset of tears.

He couldn't help how he felt. He had gone and screwed up over and over. The thought of doing it all over again, except differently, terrified him. After everything was said and done, how would he know he wasn't just setting them both up for failure?

Running from his feelings wasn't going to cut it anymore, not now.

It was all he knew how to do, he'd been running so long. Unable to escape his own mind, or what he had done. Ten years had done nothing to change that. Agnes helped a little, and L had calmed his nerves once upon a time, but there was literally nothing that pharmaceuticals and extensive therapy could cure.

He was going to be sick the rest of his life, something he accepted a long time ago. He knew it wasn't really a sickness either, it just made him different from the people around him. He envied others who got their problem under control, but himself...

Rowan sighed, listening to Agnes breath. He remembered when they were little, and she was convinced that Peter Pan was going to take them to Neverland.

It felt like an eternity between then and now.

Like he hadn't just turned twenty-two, but twenty-two thousand. Stretched so far back, he could see the Golden Age.

The brunet blinked slowly. Where had that stray thought come from? He remembered the phrase from history, but it didn't seem right, like it belonged elsewhere. Sleep overcame him, and he dreamed of voices, trapped inside a prison made of lead.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 - Sunday - November 18th, 2012

"Kara!"

Rowan waved to the girl across the street. She was weighed down with shopping bags, most of them from whatever stores she had visited in the local mall.

At the sound of his voice, she turned to look at him. "Hey, Squall!" she replied, waiting for the light at the crosswalk, before she walked to meet him.

"You look...less purple," he said, taking a few bags off her hands.

Kara grinned. "You're late."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm right on time. You said 'around noon', you didn't specify."

She laughed softly. "That's true. So, lunch. McDonald's?" she suggested, "Or we can go somewhere else."

"Fast food is fine,"

Kara switched the bags from her right hand to her left, to keep it from getting sore. "Awesome. Let's go. I'm starving."

Rowan led her to his truck, and she put the bags in the backseat before getting in. It was a short drive to McDonald's, but the drive thru line was long, and the parking lot was almost full.

"Maybe we should go somewhere else." said Kara, frowning at how busy it was.

"We can go to my house. I can cook." Rowan told her, pulling away from McDonald's.

The brunette smirked playfully. "Ooh, fancy. Aren't you cooking for Thanksgiving?"

"Yes, but my mother's helping. I learned most of what I know from her." he said, watching the traffic. People got a little crazy this close to Turkey Day.

Kara nodded. "That sounds fun. I'm absolutely dreadful in the kitchen." she replied, looking a little shy.

He chuckled at that. "Hey, that's nothing to be ashamed of. I can teach you, if you want."

"I wouldn't want to start a fire, or accidentally blow your house up..."

Rowan shook his head and turned on a less crowded street to get home faster. "I'm sure you're not that bad."

"Tell that to my ex," she said with a laugh, unintentionally reminding Rowan of L.

He hadn't spoken to him since the party. He most likely wouldn't get another chance to, at this rate. Even though he admitted he still had feelings for the other man, he felt that what people said was true.

He always would love him, or at least care for him, no matter what. He couldn't just deny what happened between them. They had history, even if they didn't have a future.

Sure, he could get back together with the obviously crazy, too accepting guy. But there would always be that night, a constant reminder of how far gone he was. It could happen again, to someone else.

Why would he put anyone through what L had experienced?

He left for a reason. He wasn't hurting anybody else, if he could help it.

Kara was just as innocent. She didn't deserve to go through the pain and suffering one of his episodes caused. They were better off as friends. He was better off without anyone to worry about.

L moved on, and so had he. There was no turning back.

"So what about you? Are you seeing someone?" she asked, sounding more interested than he thought she should be.

Fuck.

"I'm taking a break from dating." he said as he drove through a quieter part of town.

"Oh."

Kara looked out the window, and from her reflection, he could see that he hadn't given her the answer she was hoping for. If he was a million miles from home, maybe things would be different, but he had no idea what Kara wanted.

Casual was one thing.

Steady was on another level.

He was more of a one-night-stand kind of guy.

Or not-at-all.

Ever.

After his last relationship had failed so spectacularly, he had sworn off dating. He didn't care if he sounded mean, even if he was being polite. Or if he hurt their feelings because he wouldn't break his self-imposed vow of celibacy for them. Like they were The One.

He didn't have a "one" and if he did, he would run the other way.

Kara might have been interested to know what his relationship status was, out of curiosity. Or she could have been fishing for information to see if he was available to date, and could have intended to ask him out.

He preferred to keep his life as far away from "cheesy soap opera" or "teen drama" as possible.

Either way, he didn't ask what Kara meant. The question was asked, and he answered.

Parking in front of his house, he got out to open her door. He still had manners. Living in squalor hadn't changed that.

"Thanks," Kara murmured, running her hands through her hair and straightening her jacket. "What's for lunch?" she asked, sounding more upbeat than she had a moment ago.

Rowan shrugged as he headed inside, barely avoiding his dog and little sister as they charged through the living room, playing.

"No running in the house!" he admonished lightly, not that he cared much.

Cupcake grinned at her brother, then looked at the brunette girl behind him. "Sorry, bro. Fen was excited." she said, wanting to know who the other girl was, but didn't ask.

He shook his head and sighed. "Kids," he muttered, laughing when Cupcake threw a tennis ball at him.

"This is Kara." he introduced, cursing his mind for even entertaining the thought of pursuing a relationship with her. She deserved better, much better than he could give. "Kara, this is my sister, Cupcake."

They smiled and greeted each other simultaneously. "Nice to meet you."

Cupcake turned to pet her brother's dog as the husky brushed against her legs. "And this is Fenir."

"Oh, that's cool. I like that name. Yours too, Cupcake." said Kara. "Anyway, your brother here invited me for lunch. I hope you don't mind."

The younger girl looked between Rowan and Kara, and back again. "No. It's fine. Are you staying for dinner too?"

"I probably shouldn't, I don't want to overstay my welcome."

"You should come for Thanksgiving dinner. Rowan's a great cook." said Cupcake, not quite trying to set her brother up with this new girl, and not quite being subtle about it either.

Rowan tried his best not to look annoyed with his sister. He knew she was trying to help him be happy, but he didn't need a significant other. "I don't know. Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?" he asked.

"Not really. We were supposed to go out to eat, but things could change." Kara told them. "Speaking of food, I'm hungry."

He walked into the kitchen. "How does chicken and rice sound?" he asked.

"Pretty awesome. Are we having wine with that?" she teased.

Rowan laughed as he got the chicken from the fridge, and everything else he needed to prepare their meal. "No, sorry. Fresh out of alcoholic beverages."

* * *

Cupcake retreated to the backyard with Fenrir, leaving the two alone. Their parents were working, so it was just her and Rowan, and now Kara, apparently. She knew he had been hanging out with someone new the last couple weeks, but she didn't know it was a girl.

Her brother never brought anyone over, except Agnes, but his best friend didn't count even though she was a girl too. As far as Cupcake knew about them, they weren't dating. Never had, never would.

But he was bringing Kara to their house, so that had to mean something, right?

Cupcake looked at Fenrir, watching the dog run across the yard.

She blinked in surprise when she saw none other than Jack Frost, the spirit of winter, and Guardian of Fun.

What was he doing here?


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15 - Sunday - November 18th, 2012

"Hey, Jack," Cupake greeted as she approached the eternally youthful teenager. He had a smile on his face as he threw a snowball for Fenrir to chase, instead of a toy.

The spirit looked over his shoulder at her. "Hi Cupcake. How are you?"

She shrugged halfheartedly. "I'm doing okay. What's up? You're usually over at Jamie's,"

"Oh nothing much, just hanging out, wandering around, spreading cheer wherever I go." he replied, petting Fenrir's head when the dog returned with a mouthful of snow, busy crunching on the ice.

Cupcake nodded, although she didn't believe his answer was all that truthful. "And that means playing with Fenrir." she said.

"Yeah, she's a good girl. Smart, too."

"So why are you really here?" Cupcake asked.

Jack scratched the back of his head, laughing slightly. "No reason in particular."

"And the reason would be?" she pressed, wondering if he was stalling for time so he could get out of telling her.

"Guardian stuff." he answered vaguely.

She remembered the ceremony more than six months ago, after they defeated Pitch.

"Is that nightmare guy back?"

He looked somewhat surprised at that, his clear blue eyes widening a fraction. "Um, well, no. Kind of. Not really. It's hard to explain." he said quickly, like he didn't want to upset her.

Cupcake frowned. "Either he is, or he isn't."

"I did see him, but I'm just not sure what he's doing..."

She followed Jack's gaze to the living room window, and everything fell into place. "It's my brother, isn't it? Because he can see them."

He stared at her. "You knew?"

"I saw one of his paintings, a nightmare. Just like..."

"A fearling?"

She nodded.

"Have you talked to him about it?" he asked gently, leaning on his staff when she shook her head. "Yeah, I guess it'd be pretty hard for adults to believe, even if you told them."

Cupcake shrugged, chewing her upper lip. "He hasn't said anything either, but one time he got into a fight with our parents about seeing things, a while back, I don't know. I was pretty young so I can't remember much."

Jack listened while he watched the girl's brother through the window. He couldn't hear what Rowan and Kara were saying, but it didn't look like Cupcake would be missed yet. "Do you think it could have been about the fearlings? Or something else?"

"Well if that nightmare guy was around back then, maybe. Or drugs, but my brother wouldn't do that. He takes pills he gets from the doctor when he goes, though."

"And you're sure he hasn't said anything at all about seeing fearlings?"

"Yeah. If he told anyone, it would be Agnes."

"Where does she live?" he asked.

Cupcake glanced at the street. "About four blocks over, on Thaddeus. The one with a TARDIS in the back yard."

"TARDIS?" Jack blinked, feeling lost.

"It's a big blue box. Can't miss it."

He nodded slowly. "All right. I'm gonna go see if maybe she knows something about all this."

"Is Agnes a believer?"

"Not yet."

The spirit flew up and over the house, sneaking into Rowan's bedroom while the balcony door was open. He intended to visit Agnes later. Right now, he was more interested in what Cupcake had told him about her brother.

He leaned his shepherd's crook against the desk, listening to the computer hum in sleep mode. Above, countless drawings tacked to the ceiling rustled softly as the fan pushed air through the room. It sounded like leaves in the wind, or waves breaking on the shore, if he used his imagination.

Walking around the easel in the middle of the tarp, he turned to the painted canvas. A white wolf facing an ice shelf was the subject. He looked for a title, finding it scrawled on a piece of masking tape. "Ghost at the Wall," he read, then saw the subtitle. "Game of Thrones."

Curiosity piqued, Jack searched the room for other mentions of the title, and spotted a hardback copy half-hidden under Rowan's bed. He pulled it out, leaving the book on the floor as he entered the closet. The pocket door slid into the wall, revealing the contents of Rowan's wardrobe.

On the left, there was a dresser, with candles and a lighter in the top drawer. He pushed aside the clothes hanging from the closet rods, feeling along the walls for hidden compartments. He checked the other side next, gingerly moving finished and unfinished paintings of varying sizes out of his way. He made sure to put them back in the same order when he was done, trying not to get distracted with admiring the works and reading the titles if they had one.

Jack looked in the bathroom next, heading straight for the medicine cabinet. "Tylenol, DayQuil, NyQuil, aspirin, ibuprofen..." he muttered. All of those could be bought at the store. Where were the prescriptions?

Rummaging through the linen closet behind the door, he found orange bottles rolled up in extra washcloths behind old towels. He couldn't pronounce the names printed on them, so they had to be what he was looking for.

Carrying the bottles in the pocket of his hoodie, he left the bathroom and went to Rowan's computer. Taking a seat, Jack clicked the mouse, watching the blank screen disappear. He had spent time learning how to use computers and the Internet when he followed kids to school and sat in on their lessons.

Opening a new webpage, he Googled the medication, as well as the doctors who had prescribed them. The longer he researched, the more he understood. Anti-psychotics, side effects, therapy and hospitalization... No wonder the Grahams hadn't gone together as a group, or told Cupcake what was wrong with her older brother. This had been going on for years, before she was even born.

Rowan's schizophrenia was a direct result of Pitch's influence extending beyond childhood. Jack had to admit, the medical diagnosis was a logical conclusion. There came a point in a child's life where people expected youthful fantasies to stop. That it was just make-believe, and none of it was real. But if a child continued to behave 'outside the norm', as Jack was beginning to think Rowan had, they would be considered unstable.

It explained so much.

He started reading Rowan's IM history, searching for details that would help give him a better picture of what the man had seen. Unfortunately, it seemed Rowan had been keeping Pitch's existence a secret from Agnes. He told her nothing about the tall, dark man who fed on fear.

Jack got up and returned to the bathroom, leaving the medication where he found it. Then he went back to the computer, continuing to read the logged conversations between Rowan and his best friend.

As time passed, he heard Rowan leave with Kara, taking her home. He calculated that he had about another hour to keep looking around before Cupcake's brother came back, depending on whether or not he stopped somewhere else along the way.

Erasing the search history, Jack settled down to wait. He picked the book up from the floor, reclining on the bed while he read _A Game of Thrones_ to distract himself.

Convincing Rowan that his hallucinations were real, and not schizo-real, would be the hardest thing he had ever done.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 - Sunday - December 16th, 2012

Her room was a mess. Organized chaos, but a mess all the same. Pitch wondered how she could find anything in the large space. It had once been two bedrooms, going by the second closet.

Agnes rolled over onto her stomach with a sigh, sheets and comforter kicked to the floor as she moved.

Fear hit him like a battering ram with startling intensity. He looked at the seventeen-year-old girl. Pitch didn't see anything to warrant this level of fear from her, save his presence.

Shadows writhed on the walls, and danced to the rhythm of Agnes's pulse.

They didn't belong to him, heedless of the wordless command ordering them elsewhere. Nor did they vanish when he hissed, instead shrieking in a cacophony of primal rage that sent him ducking for cover beneath the bed.

A hundred thousand limbs grabbed at his cloak, knife-edged fingers digging into his skin until sand poured out. He formed a war-scythe and swept it through the darkness as he traveled from one shadow to the next, cutting through until he was on the other side of the room.

He tensed as they converged, gaping maws devouring the light as it slid across the floor. Were they eating the Tsar's precious moonbeams, and what would happen if they ate Nightlight?

Backing against the closet door, Pitch turned to leave while the strangely autonomous shadows were grouped together, before talons raked down his spine. He snarled, swinging the war-scythe behind him, cleaving his attacker in two. The shadow scurried to join the rest, seething as its halves returned to one shape.

He tried to pass through again, only to be thwarted. They had trapped him inside the house, with no discernible means of escape. Gritting his teeth, the dark spirit tried once more, shuddering at the effort as he slipped from the bedroom, to the basement.

Surrounded by dusty cardboard boxes, he attempted to leave a third time, unsuccessful. How could he be bound to an area that wasn't his cave? It should have been impossible, unless Ombric were involved, and there was no reason to create a magical barrier around a human's house.

Unless the shadows were the barrier.

He glanced at the ceiling, a thoughtful expression on his face. Did they want with her, what he wanted with Rowan? Or did she have something they wanted, and they didn't want him to have it?

They hadn't come after him while he was here in the basement, so obviously they were guarding her room for a reason. Pitch was determined to find out what. Climbing the stairs, he opened the basement door, into a short hall. The kitchen was in front of him; three doors to his right, living room to his left. He turned left, walking around the sofa table, and back upstairs.

He waited to see that the shadows had gone, before sneaking to Agnes's bedside. She seemed unharmed, but there were scars in her mind. Pitch looked around the room, gaze searching for anything that might be of value to a spirit. He stared at Agnes when she said something in her sleep, the word stirring up old feelings, both foreign and familiar.

Golden sand drifted past the window, carrying dreams to children. The soft light cast a dim glow on the walls, and the shadows returned with force. Before they could reach Agnes, Pitch gathered her up in his arms, and disappeared.

A voice whispered in his ear as he fled.

"There are things in this world worse than you."

* * *

Sanderson Mansnoozie watched his dream sand flow through Burgess, brow furrowing as he sensed a nightmare. The Guardian headed for the source, surprised to see Pitch Black in front of a window one moment, and gone the next.

The equine nightmares he left in his place reared on their hind legs, lashing wildly at something. Sandy moved closer as the horses screamed, viciously torn apart and consumed in their death throes.

Alarmed, he flew backwards into the sky, putting distance between him and whatever had just happened.

He ended up at the lake, pleased to find Jack wasn't gone. The white-haired youth had drawn patterns on the surrounding trees, while waiting for the ice to thicken enough so Jamie and his friends could skate safely during the winter.

Sandy floated down until he was at eye level with the other Guardian. He tapped the boy on the shoulder, smiling briefly when Jack turned to face him.

"Oh, hey, what's up?"

The blond conjured an image of Pitch Black.

"You saw Pitch?" He noticed Jack didn't look shocked, but his eyes were wary. He nodded as the boy asked where he had seen the King.

A street sign hovered in the air, along with the house number. Jack paled, if he could get any paler. His grip on the shepherd's crook tightened. "Agnes." he murmured, prepared to take flight, until Sandy grabbed the back of his hoodie and shook his head.

"No? What do you mean no?" Jack twisted around to dislodge himself, but Sandy didn't let go.

He showed Jack the nightmares he had seen, getting torn to pieces. This made the ice spirit more frantic. "Sandy? What just happened?" he asked, as the Sandman replayed the image, before turning into a picture of Jack, then Pitch, and a question mark.

"Did I know Pitch escaped? Yeah, I've known for a while, but he's not doing anything wrong. Well, not really. I don't know. Seriously, what happened? Did his nightmares rebel and they're fighting each other?"

Sandy shook his head again, and released the younger Guardian. He turned a portion of his sand into a knife, and stabbed Jack with it harmlessly, hoping to get his point across that way.

"You think they were murdered?" Taking Sandy's silence as confirmation, Jack leaned on his staff. "Which means there's not just Pitch Black to deal with anymore..."

Nodding, Sandy made a replica of the aurora borealis.

"You're right. We have to tell the others."

Jack hopped onto the golden cloud as Sandy took them to North's workshop. He could always check on Agnes later.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17 - Monday - December 17th, 2012

When Agnes woke up, it was a little after midnight. She groped absently for the trashcan by her bed. Her fingertips grazed the floor, touching dirt instead of wood. Confused, she reached up to turn the light on, thinking maybe Rowan was using her room for a project and had accidentally spilled something on his way to the bathroom. It wasn't that far fetched, but she didn't know what else to think.

Her hand hit the cave wall, then the curve of a bedpost as she sat up. She didn't have a four-poster bed.

She was dreaming. It was just some Phantom of the Opera dream where she was playing the role of Christine, and in a few minutes, she would wake up. Maybe she was at Hogwarts, in the Slytherin dungeons. Yeah, that would explain the rough texture of the floor and wall, but not why it felt more like a cave than part of a castle.

It was just of those dreams where she felt like she was awake, but knew she was sleeping, that was all.

As she slipped back under the sheets, which were ridiculously soft, softer than she remembered her own flannel sheets being, her stomach lurched.

Slapping a hand over her mouth, Agnes rolled out of bed, stumbling to the bathroom. She got ten steps before she collapsed, and threw up.

"Mom?" she called once she finished throwing up, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She didn't like the way her voice echoed in the empty space.

She felt, more than heard, a presence behind her, and she knew she wasn't at home when a man spoke. "Your mother isn't here."

Agnes turned around, staring up at the yellow-eyed man. Her mind jumped to conclusions faster than ever.

He was Azazel from Supernatural; he was a Twilight vampire; he was a werewolf from MTV's version of Teen Wolf.

She was pretty sure he had kidnapped her, or she was stuck in one of those 'trapped in another world' fanfictions and this guy was her designated love interest.

"If you wanted to ask me out you could have been like 'Hey Agnes I like you and think we should have coffee sometime,' instead of kidnapping me like some Edward Cullen wannabe. Seriously, Twilight is not a guide to dating impressionable teenage girls." she blurted, thought about what she'd said, and added, "Or maybe it is, but I'm not one of them. Please don't hurt me."

The man looked at her like the thought of them together romantically was something that honestly hadn't crossed his mind. Until now. Because she had to say something, and possibly signed her own death warrant in the process.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said, "and I certainly don't want to date you."

She pushed herself up off the floor, standing as far away from him as she dared. "Good. That's good. Wait, no. Why am I here in your creepy hideout if you're not ridiculously attracted to me in a Phantom to my Christine kinda way?"

He blinked at the reference. "There was something in your room," he told her honestly. He had no reason to lie about what happened, and she deserved to know. "I thought it was going to attack you."

Agnes curled her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. "Something like what? I need specifics, dude." she muttered, wondering if he would take her home if she asked, or keep her here until she developed Stockholm syndrome.

"Shadows."

She frowned. He was Rowan's brand of crazy, or she was still asleep. No more caffeine for her. It did things to her subconscious mind.

"Shadows." she repeated, then, "Heartless are real?"

He shook his head in response. "I don't know what you mean by that, but yes, shadows. My name is Pitch Black."

Agnes felt another wave of nausea hit her suddenly; she turned back around to throw up, hyper aware of the man's hand on her shoulder as he crouched behind her. He held her hair out of her face while she emptied her stomach.

"What are you, like, a fairy tale enthusiast? Snow White and Rose Red, or something?" she asked when her body stopped betraying her for the moment.

"No. I'm the Nightmare King." he said, and she laughed so hard it hurt. Pitch helped Agnes to her feet, letting go once he was sure she wouldn't fall without his support.

She made her way back to the bed, sitting on the edge. "Nightmare King. Wow. I thought I had delusions of grandeur, but this takes the cake."

"Agnes."

"What?"

The girl looked up, a scream caught in her throat as the sight of golden-eyed horses made of black sand startled her into silence. She was relatively certain there hadn't been anyone, or anything with them, and now there were horses.

She breathed out slowly, trying her best not to panic. She was already exhausted from walking, and wanted nothing more than to sleep, then wake up, to find that this was all a dream. But there was vomit on the floor, hers, and he was cleaning it up, and one of the horses was in her face, and it was too real.

"I can't deal with this right now. Christmas break just started, and I'm sick, and I can't even...what the hell, man? Freaky Heartless-wannabe or not, you could've at least let me stay home, in my own bed. My mom probably thinks I bailed and went to Rowan's, but he usually comes over when I'm sick and- why am I telling you this?"

She looked at Pitch while running her fingers through the horse's mane. It whickered and bumped her shoulder with its nose. "So can you take me home?"

If cleaning up after her disgusted him - she had thrown up on the man's floor, after all - he didn't show it.

"Not yet. I need to make sure your house is safe first." he said, disappearing, then returning, suddenly at her side with a bowl of soup.

He was definitely not human if he could pull tricks like that.

"Can you - could you - just check on my mom for me? If those other shadows are still around, I don't - make sure they didn't hurt her. I've got no reason to believe this isn't some trick to get me to cooperate with whatever you're planning, but I swear if you-"

"If I what?" he asked, handing her the bowl and a spoon.

Agnes gritted her teeth, not about to be distracted by the temptation of chicken soup or anything else he had to offer. "If the shadows you said were at my place, are actually yours, and you're lying to me about all this, I'll kill you."

Pitch smirked. "Kill me." he echoed, like it was somehow amusing.

"And if I can't kill you, I'll find someone who can."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18 - Monday - December 17th, 2012

The fact that she thought herself capable of murder was almost adorable. If she weren't laid up in bed with a virus running through her veins, feverish and weak, he might consider her a threat.

Agnes was a human, which made her his prey. Like everyone else in the world, she was susceptible to the fight or flight response. She tried to work through her fear as she felt it, by putting on a brave face, but he knew better.

He knew which buttons to push, exactly what would trigger a panic attack and leave her broken.

Fear kept them alive, just as it could get them killed.

It surprised him, how well she was taking the revelation that supernatural things existed. She had learned early on not to make a scene thanks to Rowan, no doubt. How likely was it that reacting emotionally, because her best friend was freaking out, would help diffuse the situation?

No, crying, screaming, and running didn't help. Especially not when she was with a stranger who had taken her away, and she had no knowledge of his intentions towards her. She refused to do anything she thought might endanger her further, until he exhibited human behavior that made her feel safe.

In the event that Rowan forgot himself - forgot her - she would place her health and safety above his. He needed her to keep sane, but that didn't mean she would stick around if he became particularly violent towards her. If her life were at stake, she would attempt to incapacitate him. She wouldn't kill him unless there was no other option.

Pitch knew she was operating under the same conditions. While he hadn't threatened her, she had no qualms about threatening him, now that she had evidence of his inhuman nature.

He wondered if that was the reason why. Humans killed each other all the time, but if another being were revealed to be distinctly not human, that was reason enough to kill them? For no reason other than the fact that they weren't the same species?

If he hadn't revealed himself to be something other than human, it was more than likely that she would have taken him for a deranged killer. Not that she didn't still think he was deranged, but his small gestures of kindness made him more of a person in her eyes.

He had done those things instinctively, going through motions he couldn't remember doing before. She was in need of stability, both physically and emotionally. So he had touched her shoulder, and when she threw up, he pulled her hair back so it wouldn't get dirty. Then gave her soup to make her feel better.

Years ago, he watched people die from the same illness affecting her now. They still died from it.

Would she die here in the dark?

Something stirred in the back of his mind as he lingered on that particular thought. He focused on the girl in front of him. Like Rowan, she could see him, and didn't seem bothered by the fact. Maybe she had always been able to see, and just kept her mouth shut. If she ignored it, it would go away. Or she believed that Rowan believed his hallucinations were real, so it wasn't weird for her if she went along with it.

"Agnes, how long have you been sick?" he asked.

"Since Friday night," she said between coughs, rubbing her eyes. "What do you care? I'll get over it. I always get over it."

He placed a hand on her forehead. "You have a fever." he muttered while she ate more soup, and dropped his hand. "Tell the truth this time. How long have you been sick?"

She diverted her gaze by looking at the floor instead of him. "I just have the flu, it's no big deal. You're a terrible stalker if you know nothing about me other than my name,"

"How long?"

Agnes set the bowl to the side, lying back on the bed with her legs dangling over the edge. "I don't know." she scoffed, "Nightmare King. Seriously, what the fuck. I'm hallucinating. Folie à deux. You drugged me, didn't you? So I'd believe everything you say, but what about when the drugs wear off? Are you going to kill me?"

Pitch sighed. "I didn't drug you." he said, as fearlings and nightmare men surrounded her in response to her rising panic. He sent them away. The more afraid she became, the less she would tell him. "Why didn't you scream when you saw my nightmares?"

"Because there's something worse."

He smirked. "Now we're getting somewhere. The shadows in your room weren't mine. They have to belong to someone. Who?"

Agnes rolled over onto her side, curled up, and pulled the top sheet around her in a makeshift cocoon. "Do we have to talk about this now? I wanna sleep, and if you wake me up, I'll break your face." she mumbled, and what she said next made him think he was in the presence of a psychopath. "Seriously, you should've seen Rowan the first time I did it. He walked around with a black eye for like a week," she continued, "Just so we're clear. You said you wouldn't hurt me. I made no such promises."

She was right. Pitch could handle one bratty teenage girl; one who was too sick to defend herself anyway. He might have been defeated by the Guardians and their believers once before, but Agnes was alone. She didn't believe in childhood's defenders. There was no one coming to save her, no knight in shining armor.

Midnight had come and gone. She wouldn't be missed until morning. Even then, her mother would assume her daughter was at a friend's, sick or not. He didn't know how much time she spent out of the house, but it was often enough that no one thought twice if she wasn't there.

"What was in your room? Who was it, Agnes?" he whispered in her ear, just as she was drifting off to sleep.

He didn't expect her to respond, and if he hadn't been leaning over her, he wouldn't have heard her say:

"Me."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19 - Wednesday - December 19th, 2012

Rowan checked his phone one more time as he parked across the street from Wendy's house.

Agnes still hadn't replied to his text message.

He assumed she lost it again. For all he knew, it could be buried under a pile of fabric in her second closet, or stuck between the mattress and box spring.

That didn't explain why she hadn't called using the house phone, or logged onto messenger, or talked to him in person.

_'She probably got caught up with helping Wendy plan her party.'_ he told himself as he got out.

Rowan looked up at the sound of voices. A few girls were gathered on the sidewalk, arguing with someone he couldn't see. He walked closer, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as they backed off, going inside Wendy's house when they saw him approach.

He watched the girls go, before he focused his attention on the person they had been arguing with.

"L?"

The hood of his jacket hid his face as he leaned against a car. "Didn't think you'd be here," he muttered.

"Agnes invited me." said Rowan, "What was that all about? Are you okay?"

L shrugged, crossing his arms over his stomach. "Stupid shit. It's nothing. I'm fine."

"It's always something. You're obviously not fine. Look at me."

He pushed Rowan away when the brunet grabbed his hand. The heat seared his flesh, reminding him of how cold it was.

As he tried to pull back, his hood slipped off. Rowan let go, staring at the bruises on L's face. "That doesn't look like nothing." he said, looking the twenty-year-old up and down.

"I told you, I'm fine," L insisted. He yanked the hood back up.

"Dude, come on. At least tell me if you need to see a doctor,"

L ignored him. He curled his hands into fists, taking a deep breath. "You don't have to take me to the hospital." he said as Rowan checked his pulse with one hand, and his temperature with the other.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't."

L knew what Rowan didn't say._ 'Your heart rate is too slow. You're too cold.'_

"Because I need you to trust me." his voice wavered as he spoke, "For once, please, just trust me. Please."

Rowan rested his hands on L's shoulders, trying not to superimpose the memory of those hands around his neck as he did. "What's going on? You never act like this."

"It's-"

"If you say it's nothing, I'm taking you to the emergency room." replied the brunet.

The pressure on his shoulders caused them to ache, even though Rowan was barely touching him. "I don't want to talk about it,"

He turned around, sighing in relief when Rowan dropped his hands to his sides. L didn't expect him to wrap his arms around him and hug him from behind, as he fumbled with the car keys in his pocket.

L let the keys slip through his fingers. He looked at him over his shoulder. "Rowan-"

The brunet kissed him.

He inhaled sharply, breaking the kiss. "What are you doing?" he whispered.

Rowan shook his head. "No matter how far I ran, I couldn't forget about you. I'm not running anymore."

"Are you serious about this?"

"I'm serious. You were right. I didn't try last time, because I was terrified of what might happen if I stayed. What if I killed you?"

L smirked. "You couldn't kill me if you tried."

"After that night, I never wanted to put you in a position like that again."

"Being choked during one of your episodes - and no, what you did wasn't abuse - hurt less than you walking out the door and not coming back."

Rowan held him tighter. "I'm sorry."

"I know."

Trembling, L slumped against Rowan's chest. His vision blurred, and then darkness surrounded him.

When he woke, it was to agonizing pain as air from the heater blew across his skin. He sat up slowly, blinking in confusion. "What happened?" he asked as Rowan drove them somewhere.

"You passed out." said the brunet, features illuminated briefly from the headlights of passing cars.

"Where are-" L yawned, pausing mid-sentence. The gritty texture in his mouth wasn't just dehydration. He coughed, expelling whatever it was into his hand.

"You okay?" Rowan asked while he pulled into a gas station.

The man shook his head, coughing a few more times. "Mmm," he grumbled, opening his hand as he flicked on the overhead light.

A small pile of black sand glittered in the palm of his hand. "Oh, that's disgusting." L exclaimed, and brushed it off onto the ground after rolling down the window. He licked his lips, still feeling a few grains of sand that he hadn't spit out.

Rowan stared at him for a moment, then got out to fill up the tank.

"Get me something to drink while we're here, oh my gods, that was not normal." the auburn-haired man complained loudly. "It didn't even taste like sand!"

"You can tell the difference?" Rowan said neutrally, trying not to laugh, and failing.

L glared at him through the back window. "You know what? Shut up." He slouched in his seat, wiping his mouth. He would drink himself unconscious just to get rid of the aftertaste.

In spite of the heater, and Rowan's jacket draped over him like a blanket, he was still freezing. He listened to the brunet pay for the gas, then walk into the convenience store.

He must have dozed off. One second, he was staring at the dashboard, the next, Rowan was back. He turned the heater up, before driving away from the gas station, to the main road.

L blinked tiredly, reaching for the plastic bag that was between them. He grabbed a bottle of soda, twisted off the cap, washing down everything that weighed heavy on his tongue.

Vague impressions flowed through him. Smoke, dark, noxious, foul, old, terror. Run, escape, freedom, air.

He didn't know why he felt what he was feeling, just that it was wrong. He drank the whole bottle, and still tasted the black sand underneath.

"So are you gonna tell me what happened? You've got more bruises than the ones on your face."

L slouched further in his seat. "Gods, nothing gets past you, does it?" he sighed. "You checked while I was unconscious."

Rowan nodded. "I wasn't going to, but I had to be sure."

"I told you I was fine. If I had any life-threatening injuries, I'd say so."

"You don't always tell me, even then," Rowan pointed out, "What the hell is going on? How am I supposed to trust you, when you haven't given me a reason why?"

"Dude, since when do you need a reason? You believe in me, right? Shouldn't that be enough?"

"Of course I do. I just... whatever it is you're doing is dangerous. You have symptoms of hypothermia, and you're still walking around where people can see you?"

L tilted his head back, catching Rowan's gaze. "Yeah, willpower is amazing." he drawled.

"You're being reckless!"

"It's not like I'm going to die, all right? Is that what you're afraid of? Because you really ought to know me better than that."

"I know, but-"

"But what? Till death do us part, remember?"

Rowan smiled softly as L grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. "I remember."

"Good. Can we go home now? I want to sleep in a bed."

"You're not off the hook, you know. You still haven't told me what you're up to."

"No, nope, not saying shit. You can't make me. My lips are sea- oh my gods, don't kiss me! Keep your eyes on the road!"


End file.
